


Doing Penance

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e08 Process Stories, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-14
Updated: 2003-01-14
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Post-Ep forProcess Storiesand S4 in general.  Amy's red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.





	1. Doing Penance

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

“Donna!”

Donna rolled her eyes, laid a gentle hand on Jack’s arm, murmuring, “Excuse me, please, I’ll be back in a bit,” and crossed the crowded room of celebrants to present herself to her boss.   She crossed her arms as she replied, “Yes?”  Her annoyance was quite evident in her tone, body language, and facial expression.

Josh looked past her to the good-looking young man in uniform, then back again.  “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting you?  You do work here, you know.”

“Yes, I’m painfully aware that I’m the only person required to be working and not having fun tonight, Joshua.  What can I do for you?” she said, walking past him and heading for her desk.

Josh followed her and watched as she bent to fish her purse out of her bottom drawer.  He tried – really, he did – not to notice how nicely her grey pants pulled across the backs of her legs when she did so.  He spent some quality time investigating the ceiling over her desk until he was sure she was upright again.  He watched now as she searched in the bottom of her enormous bag for something, then stuck out a hand in the universal sign for “give me one” when he saw that it was a half-gone roll of Spearmint Certs.

“So, what, Josh?” she said, folding herself onto her chair in a huff, with a mint tucked in behind her teeth.

“What?  Oh, nothing, really,” Josh said, smiling a bit as he pulled a nearby rolling chair close to her, and sat in it himself.

“Nothing?” She asked, throwing her hands up.  “Nothing?  Then why did you bellow?”

“I do not *bellow,*” Josh said, narrowing his eyes at her in a purely adolescent gesture that seemed to say, “I know you are, but what am I?”   Which was a shame, because what he was really going for was “I am your dignified boss, respect my authority.”

“Would you like me to get any number of staffers in here to tell you about the bellowing?” she said, rising a bit out of her chair and gesturing towards the party behind the double doors behind her.

“Ok, fine, I bellowed.  But I wanted to tell you about Sam, you’re never going to believe what’s happ…”

“Oh my gosh!”  Donna said, interrupting excitedly now, her eyes wide open.  “Is he going to accept?  Did he talk to Mrs. Wilde yet?”

“Ye…hey…how do you know already?  It just happened,” Josh said, annoyed that he wasn’t the one giving her the story.

“I know, but he told me yesterday that he had given his name to Will Bailey to give to Mrs. Wilde,” she said, enjoying the look of disbelief and annoyance that spread across Josh’s face at that.  “I think he wanted someone to talk to about it,” she said, trying hard not to laugh.

“I…you…he…YESTERDAY?” Josh said, incredulous.  “He told you YESTERDAY?  Why didn’t he tell me until he HAD to?”  Josh looked like he was working up a decent mad over this, so Donna immediately tried to diffuse the eruption of his ridiculously wounded ego.

“Because if all had gone the way the world was supposed to have gone tonight, he never would have had to tell you at all.  It wouldn’t have been an issue.  It’d be a funny story he’d tell you in a couple of years over beers, a ‘can you believe what a nightmare that would have been?’ sort of thing.  Only now, he’s living the nightmare,” Donna said, leaning forward a bit to put her hand on Josh’s arm.  “Don’t be mad at him, Josh.  Be proud of him.  He did a good thing.  He needs your support right now.  And he’s going to be a fantastic candidate.  Hell, I’d vote for him even if he was running as a Republican,” Donna said, smiling, leaning back and earning another glare from Josh.

“Well, thank God that’ll never happen,” Josh said, settling back and picking up his beer.  He narrowed his eyes at Donna as he started picking at the peeling label on the bottle in his hand.  “So you and Sam spent some time together yesterday,” he said, ready to get a little payback.  

“Yeeeeeees,” Donna said, narrowing her own eyes right back at him and crossing her arms across her chest.  “So?”

“I don’t know, Donnatella.  I’m just sayin’, you guys were awful cozy tonight, too.  I was wondering why you were both holed up in Sam’s office earlier.  And someone told me you came out holding his hand.”

“What, are we in third grade now, Josh?” Donna said, supremely annoyed now.  “Are you going to ask me if I like him next?  If I want him to carry my books home from school?”

Something in her tone worried him a bit.  “Do you?” Josh said, completely forgetting that he had started this as a joke.  He was relieved when she all but exploded with a very loud “Are you crazy?” that helped him regain his snarky footing.

“I don’t know, Donna, do you think Captain Fantastic out there,” he said, gesturing with his head and chin towards Jack Reese in the room beyond, “will be happy to hear that you’ve got your eye on another guy?”

Now Donna cocked her head at Josh, annoyance giving way to amusement.  “That’s Lieutenant Commander Fantastic, thank you very much,” she said, swiveling in her chair and looking over at her new friend.  Jack saw her looking, smiled warmly and waved, then went back to talking to a couple people he had just met.  “He’s awful cute, don’t you think?” she asked a bit nonchalantly, hoping to get a rise out of Josh in the process.

Her comment and Reese’s wave/smile combination worked, of course; Josh was *really* annoyed now.  He briefly considered looking into whether or not any subs in the Arctic needed new commanders, but then thought it would take too much time.  “Another gomer for the list, huh Donnatella?”  Ah, the old reliable.  He’d just try a put-down instead. 

“I hardly think a Lieutenant Commander in the United States Navy qualifies as a gomer, Josh,” she said with all sorts of false sweetness.   “But I’ll make sure I find out for sure tomorrow night when Jack and I have dinner, and give you a full report on his gomer rating,” she said, noting silently, with pleasure, a wave of annoyance float across Josh’s face.  Josh didn’t need to know that she had agreed to the dinner to be polite, but that she didn’t really think there were any sparks between her and Reese.  The man was going to vote Republican, for crying out loud!  She’d been down that road once before.  The words “didn’t go well” came painfully to mind.

Just then, Amy came sailing into the bullpen, tipsy and chewing on yet another shrimp.  “Hey, J,” she drawled, coming over to run her hand over his hair.  She stumbled a bit, and quite obviously made it seem like the only possible way she’d ever be able to not fall down was to land in Josh’s lap.  It took all of Donna’s strength and willpower not to roll her eyes right out of her head at the sight.

“Hi, Amy, I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Donna said, completely unable to contain her annoyance at once again being ignored by Josh’s…whatever she was now.  God, Donna was so over the two of them, she didn’t think she could take much more of the bickering and Amy trying to get his attention again.  And if that completely inappropriate dress didn’t screamed “Hi Josh, let’s have sex,” well then nothing did.  Donna fought back a nearly uncontrollable urge to throw her pencil caddy at Amy.

Amy, drunk and oblivious to the sarcasm in Donna’s voice, said, “Oh, Hi Donna,” then went back to draping herself over Josh.  The only thing keeping Donna from evacuating the premises was the very interesting look of…what was it…embarrassment?  Discomfort?  on Josh’s face.  *Gomer, huh?  Well.  You know what they say about payback,* Donna thought.

“Nice dress, Amy,” Donna said, without a shred of sincerity in her voice.  Josh picked up on the hostility, and raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.  He tried to find a place to put his hands that wasn’t suggestive, indecent, or encouraging to the woman draped all over him, but he was having a hard time of it.

“Thanks.  Do *you* like my dress, J?” she slurred, craning her neck a bit to try to look at the man she was sitting on.  “You told me you had a thing for little red dresses, once,” she said, oblivious to the instant look of panic Josh gave Donna at that point, and the shocked look on Donna’s face when she heard that little tidbit.   Now Amy gave a very annoying high-pitched laugh as she cracked herself up.  “Not that I bought this dress with you in mind or anything, J,” she said, standing up now and doing a poor job of pulling the already too-short dress down to a respectable level.  “I’m gonna go get my coat, J.  Do you wanna walk me out?” she said, trailing her fingers along Josh’s arm as she stumbled towards the doorway to his office.  Donna and Josh heard her knocking things off his desk as she moved around the inner room.

Josh and Donna just sat and stared at each other, remembering a night long before, and a similar dress, and a moment when all things between them seemed possible.

Finally, they heard Amy fall into Josh’s office chair and pick up his desk phone to make a call.  They were able to ignore her for a few more minutes.

Finally, Josh spoke.  “Are you leaving from here tomorrow night?”

Not following, Donna narrowed her eyes at him.  “What?”

“Your dinner with Reese.  Leaving from here?”

“Yes, why?”

“No reason.”  He stood up now, his eyes glued to the floor.  

Finally, he spoke again.  “You should wear it for your date,” he said, quietly, as he turned to go get Amy and put her in a cab.  

Donna was having a hard time breathing.  “How do you know I kept it?” she said in a quiet voice to his retreating form.

Josh smiled a rueful smile as he turned to look at her.  “You kept it,” he said with conviction.  “And you look better in it.”  And he walked into his office before he could say too much more.  

And so he never saw the look of hope on Donna’s face, or saw her heartbeat hammering out an uneasy pulse in her throat.

Donna got up, and with another look behind her towards his office, left the bullpen and rejoined the party.


	2. Doing Penance 2

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

Her alarm went off at 9:00am, but she needn’t have set it; she hadn’t slept one bit since getting home just past 3am.  Donna got up off of the end of her bed, where she had been sitting, staring into her closet, and went over to turn off the radio as it cheerily blared away.  She went back to her perch at the end of the bed, and stared at her clothes some more, mentally checking off each item in her mind as she scanned the colorful hanging pieces of her wardrobe.

She sighed.  She was going to need some help with this one.

She got up and quietly went to her bedroom door, opened it, and padded down the hall.  She knocked quietly on the door at the opposite end of the hall, and then pushed Ginger’s door open a crack.

“Ginger?” Donna whispered into the pitch-black room.  Whatever Ginger had paid for those room-darkening shades, she had gotten her money’s worth, that was for sure.  It was darker than night in there.

Hating herself for what she was about to do, Donna tip-toed into the room, around haphazardly-thrown piles of clothes and shoes on her floor.  Ginger was not the neater of the two of them, but she at least kept the destruction confined to her own room.

Donna got to the foot of Ginger’s bed, and gently shook her friend’s foot with her hand, calling, “Ginger!” again in a sotto-voce whisper.

There was still no response from the lump under the floral comforter.

Finally, a bit desperate now, and committed to waking up her poor friend who was, no doubt, about to realize the full force of the alcohol she had drunk the night before, Donna walked up to where she thought Ginger’s head was under the covers, squinched her eyes shut hard, gave her roommate a quick shake on the shoulder, and said, in her normal voice, “Ginger?” 

“What!  I’m up!  Toby?  What!  I’ve got it!  What?”  Ginger woke with a loud start, threw the covers off and started looking around the room in a panic, her hair flying everywhere due to static electricity.  She started looking around for a phone to answer.  “What?” she said, not really grasping what was going on.

Donna was trying not to laugh, because she knew that Ginger wasn’t going to be happy when she realized what was going on.  “Ginger, you’re home, it’s ok…”

“Did I oversleep?  What time is it?” she said, her head whipping around as she squinted at her clock radio with contact lens-less eyes.  

“It’s 9 o’clock…”

“WHAAAAAT?  Oh sweet Jesus, Toby’s going to kill me…”  Ginger tried to get out of bed all at once and fell off the far side as her feet tangled in the sheets.

“No, Ginger, remember, the election?  We won, Leo told us we don’t have to go in until noon…”

Ginger scrambled to stand before Donna, with one leg pulled into a pair of dress slacks, her royal blue silk nightshirt hanging over the front of the pants, her hair standing on end, with sheet-marks criss-crossing her face.  “What?” Ginger whined, coming around now.  “Why are you…what the…why aren’t I sleeping right now?”

Donna put her most contrite face on.  “I know, I’m sorry, I’m just, I’m having a crisis, I need your help, and I couldn’t wait any longer….”  She watched a look of despair wash over Ginger’s face, as the redhead slowly realized that the first morning she’d had to sleep in over a year was about to vanish like a puff of smoke.

Ginger stood, still half in of yesterday’s work pants.  “Please tell me someone’s dead and you need me to help you bury the body.  Because anything short of that…”

“Ginger, I’m so sorry, but I’m freaking out, I really need your help, here,” Donna said, pleading now as Ginger started heading back for the covers.  Donna grabbed her by the back of the night shirt and pulled her back to a standing position.  “Pleeeeeease, I’m sorry, please come help me, I’ll make coffee to help you wake up.  Just don’t go back to sleep.”

Ginger sat on the end of her bed now, desperation settling into resignation on her face.  “Ok.  But you owe me big time,” she said, grumbling.  “Go make me coffee. I’m going to brush my teeth and find some aspirin to make the marching band in my head go away.”

Donna leaned down to press a big noisy kiss to the top of Ginger’s head, whispering “Thank you!” as she skipped out the door, and eliciting an unhappy groan from the woman still sitting on the bed, and a tortured “Please, Donna, don’t walk so loudly.”  This was going to be a doozy of a hangover.

Ten minutes later, a still-groggy Ginger came into Donna’s bedroom holding onto a mug of coffee for dear life.  She sat heavily on Donna’s desk chair, took an enormous gulp from her mug, scalded her tongue, sighed, and finally focused her eyes.  She saw Donna standing in front of her open closet, staring at her short red dress which was hung on the back of the open door.

“Ok.  I’m up.  What’s the emergency?” 

Donna sighed, and turned to her friend.  “Ok.  Do you remember me telling you, in the cab ride home last night, everything that’s going on?  With Jack and Josh and the dress and everything?”

“No.  We took a cab home?  Where’s my car?”

Donna just shook her head at Ginger.  “You really should stop at two beers, you know that, right?  You have a weaker tolerance than Josh.”

“Whatever.  So, ok, I’m assuming my car’s at work.  Ok.  Who’s Jack?” she said, squinting a bit as she tried to put the fuzzy post-election celebratory events of the night before back into place in her mind.

“Remember?  Jack Reese?  He voted for Bartlet for me?  Uniform?”  Donna could see that it still wasn’t ringing a bell w/Ginger.  “Really cute?  You said he reminded you of that guy from the movie…”

“Oh, *right.*  Him.  Yes, very cute,” she said, sipping again and nodding her head.  She crossed a leg beneath her and pulled her big blue fuzzy robe tighter around her midsection.  “Yes.  Jack Reese.  So?”

“Ok, so, I’m having dinner with him tonight.”

“Uh huh,” Ginger said, still not seeing where the crisis was in the whole scenario.

“So, I need help with what to wear.”

Ginger just sat, blinking, for a moment, at her obviously deranged roommate.  Because, seriously, there was no way that Donna could have woken her up, the one morning she could sleep in, for help in choosing a date dress, when they both knew that between them they only had 4 good date dresses and three of them were at the cleaners.  

The blinking continued.  Finally, Ginger spoke.  “You’re kidding me, right?”  

“No!  I can’t…what if he…”

“Donna!  You’re looking at the date dress!  Why am I awake again?”  Ginger started to get up to go back to bed for another hour, coffee be damned.

“No, wait!  You’re obviously not remembering me telling you what happened with Josh and Amy,” Donna said, desperate to keep Ginger in the room.  So desperate, in fact, that she was going to do what she very rarely did – spill some of her feelings about Josh.  Ginger was always desperate for more dirt on that subject, but Donna had always protected herself by admitting to very little regarding her feelings for Josh.  Even if it was clear to Ginger and Margaret and, you know, the Western Hemisphere, that they had once been crazy about each other.  Once.  A long time ago.  Before Cliff and Amy and it all went wrong.

Donna got out of her head, and focused on the problem at hand once again.   She could see Ginger trying to make her brain work again, and that the coffee just wasn’t working on that part of her yet.  Ginger waved her hand at Donna in the international symbol for “spill it,” and said, “What happened with Josh and Amy?  And, by the way?  Do I remember that Amy was, like, barely clothed last night?  Wearing a red…” and as she said the word, Ginger looked to the red dress on Donna’s door, and began, slowly, to put some of the pieces together.  “Ah.  I think I see where this is going,” she said, happy to be in on the conversation now.  “What happened with Josh and Amy?” she asked, eyes wide open and focused, finally.

Donna started pacing in front of her closet door as she told Ginger about the jealous banter that she and Josh had been trading about Jack, and about how Amy, in all her drunken wonder, came in and plastered herself all over Josh.

Ginger piped up at that point.  “God, could she BE any more obvious?” she said, shaking her head.  

Donna stopped, and cast a relieved look at Ginger.  “THANK you!”  Donna said.  “So it’s not just me, then, who thinks that she’s…”

“…trying desperately to get Josh back, and is willing to use skin to do it?  Nope,” Ginger said, fully on Donna’s side in this.

“Ok.  Well, you won’t believe what happened next.  So, well, wait, you remember what happened the night I wore this dress in the Wing, when Josh told me I looked good in it, and that I should keep it?  What was that, like two years ago?”

“God, that seems like a million years ago,” Ginger said, remembering.  She arched an eyebrow at Donna, cocked her head, and stated the obvious.  “Clearly, you took his advice,” she said, letting her now-awake mind whirl.  “Have you worn it since?”

“No,” Donna said slowly.

“And now I know why you never let me wear that dress,” Ginger said, a sly look coming over her face as she began to figure it out.  “It’s your Josh-dress.” 

“My what?”  Donna said, hoping the rising blush in her cheeks would go unnoticed.

It didn’t.  “Your Josh-dress.  And you’re blushing.”

“Shut up.  What do you mean…”

“It’s a special dress.  It makes you think of Josh and a special moment between you.  It’s like you wore it to the Oscars or something, now you can’t wear it again, unless it’s for him…ah,” Ginger said, getting the big picture a little bit more.

“Yeah, ‘ah.’  But wait, it gets better.  Let me tell you what happened next,” Donna said.  “Amy said, right in front of me, like I wasn’t even there, that Josh had told her once that he had a thing for little red dresses,” she said, remembering. 

Ginger’s eyes went wide.  “Shut.  UP.  She did not say that.”

“She most certainly did.”

“What did Josh say?”

“Nothing.  He just sort of…”

“What?”

“Well, I might be projecting, here, but he looked kind of…I don’t know, nervous, when she said it.  He looked right at me after she said it.”

“Shut.  UP!  Then what happened?”

“Well, there was more groping on her part, and then she tottered off into his office.  And he went after her, but as he did, he asked me if I was going to be leaving from the office for my date, and then he said…” and Donna trailed off as she remembered his words, and as her heart started beating wildly in her chest again.

“WHAT?”  Ginger shrieked, left seriously hanging as Donna retreated into her brain.

“Oh, sorry.  He said…all he said was, ‘You should wear it on your date.’”

“Oh get OUT.  He did NOT say that to you.  He meant your Josh-dress?”

“Yup.  And I said, ‘How do you know I kept it,’ and then he got all Josh and said, ‘You kept it,’ like he knows me so WELL, right?  I mean, I might not have kept it!  How does he know I kept it?  Maybe I did bring it back to the store after that night!”  Donna said indignantly, stomping around a bit before stopping to look at Ginger.

Ginger just cocked another eyebrow at her, and pointedly gestured at the tell-tale dress on the closet door.

“Oh, alright,” Donna huffed, as she flounced onto the edge of her bed.  “I kept the damn dress.  And damn him for knowing I’d keep the stupid damn dress.”

“So did he answer you?”

“Yeah,” Donna said, bringing her eyes to Ginger’s now.  “He said, ‘You kept it,” and then, just as he walked off, he said, ‘And you look better in it.’”

There was dead silence as Ginger’s mouth dropped open in shock, and her lips silently mouthed the words “Shut.  Up!”

“I know,” Donna said, now desperately looking at Ginger.  

“Did you talk to him again after that?”

“No,” Donna said, with worry creeping into her voice.  “He said he was going to go put her in a cab, but he didn’t come back to the party.  So I can only assume…”

“Ugh, thank you, no need to continue that thought, I don’t want to think about the possibility of them horizontal,” Ginger said, shuddering.

“Seriously,” Donna said, agreeing with her.   “But, this brings me back to my dilemma.  What do I do about tonight?  If I wear the dress…the only date-worthy outfit we currently have in the apartment, by the way…”

“Oh my god, I totally see the problem now,” Ginger said, a hand pressed to her forehead as she tried to help Donna sort it all out.  “If Josh sees you in the dress, it’s like…”

“…it’s like I’m trying to send him a message or something,” Donna said.  “But what would he take the message to be?  ‘I was so right, she kept the dress?’  ‘She finally did something I told her to?’  Which, by the way,” she said in an aside to Ginger, “would be so like him, to take delight in the fact that he was RIGHT about me keeping the dress,” she said, now up and pacing again.  “But anyway, on the off chance that he looks past that portion of the ego…”

“…he might see another message there.  That *you* know that *he* has a thing for women in little red dresses,” Ginger added, narrowing her eyes at Donna now, and noticing that Donna was starting to get fidgety with this new line of thinking.  “And that *you* now know that he thinks that *you* look better in it than Amy does,” she said, taking another sip of her coffee.

“Yeah.  He could take me wearing the dress to be a sign of…interest, on my part,” Donna said, pacing again.  “But then again, I have a date!  With a cute, non-gomer!  And this is the only dress I have to wear!”  Donna said, trying hard to convince herself.  “Why shouldn’t I wear the dress?  And besides,” Donna said, crossing to look at the dress more closely,  “I mean, Josh is my boss, so he shouldn’t care, right?”  Donna said, a little desperately now.  “He’ll just ignore me like usual, and not even notice, right?  Because really, who cares about me and the gomers.  I’ll just go out and have a nice time, and Josh won’t even notice what I’m wearing.  He couldn’t care less, right?”

Ginger just watched as Donna got more desperate.  “We could call Bonnie, see if she has something you could wear,” Ginger suggested.  “She has that blue thing with the criss-crossy straps in the back.”

Donna perked up a bit at that.  “That might work.  Do you think it’d fit?”

“Yeah, and if not, we can work some magic at lunch in the bathroom with some safety pins.  But the real issue here, Donna, is that even if you wear the blue dress, you’ll be sending Josh a message.  I think he made it pretty clear last night that he’s going to notice what you wear tonight.  So the question here, Donna, is are you ready to send a message?”

Donna just stared at her for a minute, dumbfounded.  She didn’t know if she was ready to do this with Josh.  They had just finally gotten back on solid ground with each other, after Cliff and the diary, after the struggles of the reelection campaign…why, *why* did he have to go and remind her of that night from two years before?  Why was he bringing it up, now?  Was she reading too much into this?

Ginger pressed on.  “What do you think, Donna?  What dress do you think you should wear, and what message do you want to send?   If you go with the blue one, I think you’re saying…”

“…that I’m not interested,” Donna said, finishing the sentence for her.

“Right.  He told you to wear the red one, because it turns him on; you wear the blue one, case closed, you’re saying ‘Josh, I don’t want to turn you on, and you don’t have a say in my love life one way or the other.’” 

“Right.  And, I’d be saying, ‘Don’t compare me to Amy in any way, shape, or form.’  Or, I wear the red one,” Donna said, hesitantly.

“And you send a different message.”

“Which is, that I think I’m hotter than Amy too?”  Donna said, hopefully.

“At least,” Ginger said.  “But I think he’ll see more in it than that,” she said, standing now.  She smiled a bit.  “I’m glad you woke me up.  Clearly, this was not a decision to be made on your own.  Do you want me to call Bonnie?”

“Yeah.  But…I’m still not sure what to do,” Donna said, sitting again on her bed as she pulled her pillow into her arms and hunched around it.

“Well, at least you’ll have a couple of options, and all day to think about it,” Ginger said, bending over to give Donna a hug.   She headed for Donna’s doorway, thought for a second, and then turned to her dear friend.

“I don’t know…”  She sighed, and tried again.  “You guys used to be so *obvious,*” she said, struggling to find the right words.  “Margaret and I used to laugh and wonder when you and Josh would finally just do it and get it over with.  I know something happened last year,” and she noted a look of misery on Donna’s face, so she started talking faster to smooth it over.  “I know you can’t talk about it,” she added, understanding like few people could how with their jobs, there was often lots that had to go unsaid.  “But it was pretty clear that whatever it was, it screwed up your ‘you-and-Joshness’.”  She suddenly got an idea in her head, and had to ask.  “Oh my god, you guys didn’t, I mean, it’s not because you guys finally…”

Donna understood what Ginger was getting at.  “No, that wasn’t it.  We’ve never…no.  It…I can’t really get into it, but it was over Cliff,” Donna said, leaving it at that.  It was pretty much the truth, anyway.

“Ah,” Ginger said, understanding.  “And then there was Amy.  I’d bet she was his version of a rebound, but that’s besides the point,” she said.  “The point is that it sounds to me like he was trying to remind you of the good old days, last night,” she said, leaning on the door jamb now.  “And you have to ask yourself if you want to go back to that time, too.  If you want to go back to the Josh and Donna of old.  Or if you maybe want to try to have something new with him.  Or, you know, if you don’t want anything at all.  You are going on a date with someone else, after all.  You might want to ask yourself why you’re going out with Jack Reese to begin with.”

Donna just nodded, not able to say anything at all as she processed Ginger’s words.  

“I’ll call Bonnie,” Ginger said, as she started to pull the door closed.

“Ginger?”  Donna said, calling her back in.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Ginger smiled.  “You’re welcome.”  And with that, she shut the door behind her.

And Donna sat on her bed, hugged her pillow, and stared at the red dress some more.


	3. Doing Penance 3

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

*God* it had been an interminable day.  How could a half-day in the office be so unbearably drawn-out?  Josh thought he was going to go insane by three-thirty, the minutes had crept along so slowly.  There wasn’t much of anything going on; it was going to be a sort of “lost week,” like the one between Christmas and New Years, as folks took long-needed and awaited vacations and generally got their lives back together after putting them on hold during the final frantic weeks of the campaign.  President Bartlet was even wearing jeans in the Oval – things were *that* relaxed.  It was making Josh crazy.

Ok, no, that’s wasn’t the truth.  What was making him crazy was that Donna seemed to be avoiding him, and he found himself counting the long seconds until she had to start getting ready for her date with the ‘Sub Stud.’  That was the intensely annoying nickname that some of the female assistants had not-so-secretly given Nancy McNally’s new man in uniform.  Josh wanted to throw up every time he thought about it.  What the hell did women see in a uniform, anyway?  With all the decorations and doo-dads, uniforms looked awful girly to him, if you wanted his opinion on the matter. 

Not that anyone did.  Which was just one more annoyance to add to the long, annoying annoyance list.

 So he was bored and annoyed.  Not a good combination.

He started rooting around on his desk for something, anything that he could give Donna to do that might force her to cut short or even cancel her date with Sailor Boy.  Josh snorted, thinking about Reese.  *Probably wasn’t man enough to join the Marines,* Josh thought derisively, to make himself feel better.  He tried very hard not to think about the fact that he himself had no military experience to bolster his own argument.  Josh sat back hard in his chair, frustrated by finding absolutely no unfinished business on his desk – Donna had been working overtime lately to clear his plate of any lingering problems.  Damn her competence.  

Josh sighed, and went back to making paper clip chains and watching the clock with annoyed eyes. 

At six o’clock, he heard Donna talking to someone right outside his door, and decided that he’d come up with something meaningless for her to do on the fly.  He got up, straightened his tie, and then pulled open his door to find…Ginger sitting at Donna’s desk, and Donna nowhere in sight.

Josh stalked over to where she was sitting, annoyance clearly written all over his face.  “Ginger.  You lost?”

But Ginger hadn’t worked for years for the crustiest man on earth – Toby – for nothing.  She knew how to work with the annoyed.  “Hi Josh, nice to see you too.  Nope, I’m not lost; Donna asked me to fill in for her while she’s out tonight.  She wanted to make sure that you’d be covered in her absence.  Isn’t she thoughtful?” Ginger said, using all of the sugar she had in her so that Josh wouldn’t have reason to flip out unnecessarily.  “So conscientious.  Can I help you with something?” she said, with wide, innocent eyes.  

Josh was thrown by this.  “N…No.  I’m…no.  Can you just tell Donna to come see me before she leaves?” he said, hands on his hips now as his eyes swung around the bullpen, looking for her.

“Sure,” Ginger said, all sweetness and light, trying not to laugh as Josh retreated back into his office and closed his door behind him, a little too loudly.  “Happy to help out!” she added brightly, chuckling to herself all the while.  Donna had predicted a Josh stealth sabotage attempt, so she had seen his bluff, and raised him one competent replacement assistant for the evening.  Ginger happily turned back to playing Solitaire on Donna’s computer.

**********

Donna stood in the chilly ladies room, arms crossed, with one long blue dress in hanging on the outside of the stall door on the left, and a short red one hanging on the outside of the stall door on the right.  She had 5 minutes to decide what to do.

She paced back and forth a bit as she weighed the pros and cons.  Finally, with a resigned sigh, she reached up and pulled one of the dresses off of its door, pulled off its protective plastic, and slipped into a stall to pull it on.

***********

Donna appeared back at her desk in her long winter overcoat.  “Everything ok?” she whispered to Ginger.  

Ginger turned back to her.  “Yeah…but he wants to see you before you go.”

“Did he say what it was about?”  Donna said, her brow furrowed in worry now.

“No, but what do you think it’s going to be about?” Ginger said, shaking her head at Donna.  “By the way, which dress did you finally decide on?”

Donna pulled her coat lapels open a bit to reveal the dress beneath.  “I hope I made the right decision,” she said, pulling the coat back together quickly again.  “Will you remember to go get the other one and bring it home with you later?  It’s still in the bathroom,” Donna said, glancing at Josh’s closed office door.

“No problem.  Get in there and deal with Josh so you can go, Jack’ll be here in like a minute, and I’d be willing to bet he’s the punctual type,” Ginger said, nudging Donna towards Josh’s door.

Donna sighed, knocked on the heavy wooden door, and entered when Josh said “Come in.”

Josh looked up and tried not to let his annoyance and frustration show on his face.  Her hair looked beautiful, pulled back in a French twist with a pretty clip holding it in place.  Her skin shone.  But he couldn’t see what dress she was wearing, because of her long coat.  He let his eyes wander over her, more than was strictly polite, and he didn’t care if she noticed.

She did.

“So you’re going?” Josh finally said, raising his eyes to hers, not really knowing what else to say.

“Yes,” Donna said, her hands jammed in her pockets.  “Ginger’s got everything under control out there; I don’t think anything’ll come up, though, so you should be in good shape.”

“’Kay,” Josh said, just watching her for a minute.  She watched him right back.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, so she said, “Ok, well, I’m gonna…”

“Do you want my coat?”

“What?”  Donna turned back at Josh’s totally unexpected question.

“You…you said once that your coat’s not as warm as mine,” he said, stammering a bit now.  “The night with the Flenders and the phone calls, you took mine to be warm…So, you know, if you want, you can wear my coat again.  You’ll be warmer,” he said, watching her eyes for any non-verbal reactions she might have.

She looked back at him for a second, a million thoughts running through her mind.  *Is it that you want to see the dress that bad?*  *Is it that you want me to have a piece of you with me when I’m on a date with another guy, so that I can’t quite fully concentrate on him because I’ll be smelling *you* all night?*  *Is it that you finally are thinking of someone other than yourself, and you really just want me to be warm and don’t care one bit that I’m going out with some other guy?*  She had no idea which thought held the right question, or what the answer would be if she voiced any of them.

Without smiling, she said, “No, thanks.  I’ll be fine in my own coat.  But…again, thanks.”  She paused, then added, “ I’m going to go, ok?  I hear Jack out there.”

“Fine,” Josh said, a little too quickly.  “I’ll see you…”

“In the morning, Josh, I’m not coming back tonight.”

Josh started to argue with her, a natural reflex, but then caught himself at the last second, and nodded.  “Ok.  Have fun,” he said, pulling a random folder in front of him, throwing it open, and pretending to start reading it thoroughly.

She watched him for another second, then said, “Ok,” and exited, closing the door behind her.

Josh heard her greeting Jack through the door, and felt his heart hang a little lower in his chest.

***********

Amy sat at her desk with her legs crossed, a distant look in her eyes, and a key turning over and over in her fingers.  Using her foot as a pivot, she was rhythmically and aimlessly turning left and right in her chair as she contemplated whether or not to pick up the phone.  She let her eyes dart around her office; her gaze fell on balloon animals of indeterminate shape; on a flower lei that she brought back to her office from “Tahiti” that now hung on her coat rack; and on the pile of CD’s on her desk, with Van Morrison’s Greatest Hits on top.

She sighed, and deciding to give it one last try, she picked up the phone and dialed Josh’s cell phone number. As the phone rang in her ear, she tried to remember where she had last left her dignity.  How many more times was she going to have to put herself in Josh’s wake before he gave her a second chance?

“Josh Lyman.”

*Wow, he sounds annoyed.*  “J, it’s me.”

“Amy?”

Amy furrowed her brow, annoyed that he no longer knew her voice automatically.  She decided to ignore that and press on.

“Yeah, it’s Amy,” she said, pausing a bit before asking, “How are you today?”

“Fine.”  Josh sighed, and ran a hand over his face.  He so didn’t want to deal with this right now.  “How’s *your* head today?”

“Fine.  I never get hungover,” Amy said, up and pacing her office now.  

“That’s right,” Josh said, aimlessly.  “I remember from college.  Chris always admired that about you,” he added.

Amy raised her eyebrows at that, trying hard not to be annoyed at a long-ago boyfriend who apparently found only her drinking abilities admirable.  She shook that off and soldiered on.  “So, anyway.  Um, I had fun last night,” she said, trying desperately to make a conversation happen here.

“Yeah, it was…nice to see you,” Josh said distractedly, and faltering a bit as he tried to think of the right words to use.

Amy frowned again.  _Nice?_ She thought.  Hmmm.

“Thanks.  Listen,” she started, now standing in front of her window and frowning at her reflection.

“What’s up?” she heard him answer.

“I was wondering if you wanted to catch dinner,” she said, biting the bullet and putting the idea out there.  She pulled on her ponytail and waited for a response for a long, long moment.

“Umm, sssssure,” Josh said, slowly, finally. She could hear him fiddling with papers.  “Can you leave now?”

Amy was pleasantly surprised that Josh wanted to do dinner so soon.  “Um, yeah, I guess.  Where should we go?  There’s a new place on D Street that…”

“Actually, I’d like to go to Julia’s,” he said quickly into the phone.

“Oh, ok,” Amy said, surprised again.  “I’m glad I wore a dress today.  That’s a pretty fancy place,” she said, hopeful now.  *And *romantic,* she thought to herself.  She silently congratulated herself for playing the red dress card the night before, and apparently hitting paydirt with it.

“Ok.  I’ll be by in about 20 minutes,” Josh said, as she heard him moving about a bit more.

Amy imagined Josh in his office, standing up and putting on his coat.  If she had been in the West Wing, however, Amy would have seen Josh standing at Donna’s desk, watching furtively to see if Ginger was on her way back from the photocopier; and Amy would have seen Josh with his finger marking an entry in Donna’s date book, which indicated the time and location of her dinner with Jack Reese.

But Amy couldn’t see all of that.  So she happily told Josh that she’d be ready outside her building in 20 minutes.  And she happily looked forward to another chance with Josh.  She looked down at the key she still held in her hand, and gripped it tightly in triumph.


	4. Doing Penance 4

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

Josh pulled up in front of Amy’s building, and seeing her waiting inside the glassed-in entryway, he beeped.  She hurried out to his car, and slid into the passenger seat.

“Hey, J,” she purred, leaning over to kiss him.  She tamped down the beginnings of annoyance when he gave her his cheek instead of meeting her lips with his own.  Determined not to blow this chance, she settled back in her seat and watched the city pass by.

“So how was your day?” she asked, trying to reestablish a relationshippy vibe to their conversation.  “I’m sure it was pretty quiet, right?”

“Umm, yeah,” Josh mumbled, his eyes on the road and his mind completely not on work or Amy or anything other than Donna.  “Ummm, what did you do today?  Any job prospects?”

“Actually, yes,” Amy said, and began chattering to Josh about the various phone calls she had made and received that day from Women’s organizations and a couple of liberal politicians potentially looking for an advisor on feminist issues.  As she went on about these things, Josh’s mind continued to spin.

*Donna had to know that I’d be looking to see if she wore the red dress,* he thought aimlessly, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to drive safely yet puzzle through his emotions about his assistant.  *That has to be why she came into my office all buttoned up…but why?  Why wouldn’t she let me see it?  Now that she knows how I feel about that dress…and more importantly, her in that dress, why wouldn’t she take the opportunity to make me crazy?*  Josh downshifted a little more forcefully than he needed to, drawing a puzzled look from Amy; she then just shook off his movements and continued droning on about her own life.

*She can’t really be that interested in _Jack Reese,_ can she?  She just met him!  What the hell can she possibly see in him?*  Josh thought as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.  He threw it into park and shot out of the car so quickly, Amy was afraid that he had hit something and he was getting out to check out the damage.  Bewildered, she let herself out of the car on her own side, and hurried around the car to catch up with Josh, who was headed for the restaurant’s front door.

Josh was still inside his own head, and was getting angry now.  *What the hell does she think she’s trying to pull, having dinner with some other guy in _my_ dress?* he thought as Amy caught up with him, and purposefully linked her left arm through his own.  *Doesn’t she know how that’s gonna make me…*

And at the door of the restaurant, his hand on the handle, with Amy self-tucked into his side, Josh stopped dead in his tracks, and finally *got it.*  

“Josh?”  Amy had almost fallen over, he had stopped short so quickly.  “What’s wrong?  What the hell’s *wrong* with you…you’ve barely spoken to me, you drove like a maniac to get here…are you ok?”

Josh just stood, staring at Amy, but not staring at Amy, and in a matter of seconds rapidly came to some conclusions about his life.

“No,” he said aimlessly, still looking at her.

“No, you’re not ok?” Amy said, now with her own arms wrapped around her own shoulders, trying to stay warm.

“No.  I mean, yes,” Josh said, smiling a bit now.  He focused his eyes, and looked at Amy now for perhaps the first time.  “I can’t do this.”  And he grabbed Amy’s elbow and started leading her away from the restaurant and back towards his car.

“You can’t do *what?*” Amy fairly shrieked, looking back behind her towards the restaurant like the answer was there.

Josh went around to unlock Amy’s door and hold it open for her.  She stared at him in angry disbelief, then flounced into her seat with a huff.

Josh hurried back around to the driver’s side, and got in, starting the car immediately.

“Josh, what in the hell…”

“Amy, I’m sorry.  I can’t do this.  I need to take you home.  I’ll explain when we get there.”

Amy opened her mouth to say something nasty back to him, but then thought better of it, sat back with her arms crossed over her chest, and glared out the front window as they pulled back out of the restaurant parking lot and headed back to her apartment.

Within ten stonily silent minutes, they were pulled up in front of Amy’s apartment building.  Josh threw the car into park, and went to cut the engine, but Amy stopped him with a hand over his own.  “Let’s talk here,” she said with ice in her voice.  “What’s going on?”

Josh sat back in his seat, rested his hands on the wheel, and tried not to grin.  Amy wouldn’t appreciate a grin right now.

“Amy, I just…I just came to a couple conclusions tonight.  One was about you and me.  Why’d you wear the red dress last night, and why’d you call me tonight?”

“What?” Amy said, completely undone by how pointed Josh’s questions were.  This was completely unlike him, to not evade or dance around a tough personal subject.  She didn’t know what to think about him anymore.  “What do you…”

“Come on, Amy.  Let’s be honest.  Why the dress, why’d you call?”

Amy just sat back, angry beyond words now.  “Because for reasons passing understanding, I wanted to get back together with you.  I’m starting to rethink that decision,” she said, intensely annoyed.  She thought for another second while he processed her words, and then asked, “Can I ask you a question?  Why’d you say yes and come out with me tonight?”

Josh chose his words carefully.  “Because I wanted an excuse to go to that restaurant.”

Amy just looked at him.  “But not because you wanted to be with me, necessarily.”

Josh looked at her, then away, then back at her again.  “I’m sorry.  Amy, I just don’t think we’re good for each other.  And…truth be told, I haven’t had…the sort of feelings you wish that I’d have for you for a long time.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have accepted your invitation tonight.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Amy snapped back.  She still felt like she was missing something, that there was some part of this puzzle that she wasn’t quite putting into place.  But she was suddenly so very, very tired, and ready to just be done with this and to move on.  With an enormous sigh, she dug into her coat pocket for something, and wrapped her gloved hand around it.

“Is there any chance that we’ll be able to be civil to each other after this?” Josh asked, dreading the answer.  No matter what, he was going to run into Amy in the course of his job, and he didn’t want her hating him and making the President’s life difficult as a result.

“Yes, J,” Amy snorted, rolling her eyes.  “I can be mad at you and not be vindictive.  I’ve had lots of practice over the past months,” she said, resigned now.  “I’m sorry we didn’t work out,” she said, unsnapping her seat belt.  “I think we could have been good together.  I hope you figure out what it is you’re looking for,” she said bitterly, adding in her own brain that she really wished that what he was looking for was *her.*  Amy reached over and grabbed Josh’s right hand off the steering wheel; she turned it over, and dropped the key from her coat pocket into his palm.  “Here’s your key back,” she whispered hoarsely.  “Be well.”  And with that, Amy got out of his car, and out of his life, and with the click of the door lock, Josh’s thoughts were already winging towards the one woman that he *did* want in his life.

****************

“Thank you, Jack; I had a great time tonight,” Donna said, shivering a bit in her thin coat as she said goodbye to Jack on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building.  She really hoped that her one semester of drama at Madison was enough to convince Jack that she meant it.  In reality, she had been bored senseless, and had been thinking about Josh all night.  She hoped it hadn’t shown; she thought Jack was a nice guy, and she felt guilty for going on a date with him when she was thinking about someone else.  At any rate, thank the gods, the night was finally over.  

Jack stood in the open cab door, smiling at the pretty woman before him.  *How long before she figures out that she’s in love with her boss?* he thought to himself with a secret smile.  *I hope Lyman’s worth it…she’s a wonderful person.*  “Yeah, me too,” Jack said cheerfully.  “We should do it again sometime,” he said, already turning his body back towards the cab.  

“Sure,” Donna said brightly…but not too brightly, she hoped.  No need to lead the guy on.  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” she said.

“Right.  Thanks again for all the help getting settled…and for breaking my radiator,” he said, laughing as he sat back down into the cab.

Donna laughed at him.  “That’s what you get for considering voting for Ritchie!” she yelled so that he could hear her through the glass of the cab’s window.

Jack smiled at her from inside, waved, and then told the cabbie where to go next.

Donna turned around, and the smile she had plastered on her face all night finally dropped away.  With a sigh, she trudged up the outside steps to her apartment building, unlocked the heavy outside door, and trudged inside.

She headed over to the elevator, and of course, it was on the fritz again.  “How utterly typical of my day is this?” she said out loud to herself.

Resigned, she began trudging up the four long flights of stairs to her and Ginger’s place.  At least Reese was so short that she had to wear the smallest heel possible that night; it made the trekking easier.

Finally, she turned the last corner, on the last landing, and looked up at the last set of 15 steps that lay between her and a hot bath and bed.

And on stair 7 or 8, she wasn’t really sure which, she saw Josh, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands folded together in front of him.  And she had absolutely no idea of what to think when his eyes brightened at the sight of her, or when he finally spoke to say:

“I was kind of hoping that we could talk.”


	5. Doing Penance 5

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

Donna stood, one hand on the banister that ran along the inside wall, the other clutching her keys to her chest.  She could feel her pulse pounding, but she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with all the stairs she just climbed.  For the umpteenth time over the last few years, she cursed the fact that her system went haywire whenever she got too close to Josh, or when he surprised her, like he was right now.  

Donna didn’t know what to think, so she took the safe route, and walked up past Josh to reach her apartment door at the top of the stairs behind him.  “Josh, look, it’s late; whatever it is, can it wait until the morning?  Or can you leave me the folder or the information or whatever and I’ll…”

“I’m not here to talk about work stuff, Donna.”  Josh was still sitting, his elbows resting on his knees, facing away from her. 

Donna turned to face his back, puzzled now.  “Is this because I had Ginger cover for me and I didn’t ask you first?  Because while I realize that I am actually your assis…”

“It’s not about Ginger.  I want…look, we need to talk about some stuff.”  Josh stood now, and turned to face her.  He looked slightly nervous, but resolute as he jammed his hands in the pockets of his coat.

Now *Donna* was starting to get nervous.  She tried to put her key in the lock twice, and missed both times.  She steadied her hand and finally unlocked the door as she tried again to misdirect Josh.  “Don’t you think it would be more appropriate for us to talk about whatever it is you need to talk to me about at the office tomorrow?” she said, pushing open the door and turning on the living room light to match the small one in the corner that Ginger had left burning for her.  Donna could tell from the coat hanging on the rack next to the door and the music coming from the room down the hall that Ginger was home, and probably still awake.

Donna threw her keys on a small table by the door, and turned to look at Josh, who was standing uncomfortably in the open doorway.  She jammed her hands in her coat pockets, much as Josh had done in the hall.  Now he was running one hand through his hair and resting one on a hip.  She tried again to get him out the door by saying,  “Look, Josh, I’m tired, I’ll clear some time for us to chat tomorrow, and we can work out whatever it is that’s bothering you…”

“Dammit, Donna, stop it.  I don’t want to talk to you at work,” he said with an edge to his voice.  Keeping his eyes on hers, he reached out an arm and grabbed the open door, pushing it shut a little more forcefully than was normally polite at midnight.  With the apartment still ringing from the door slamming into place, he said, “This isn’t a work problem we need to talk about.  It’s…us.  I need to talk to you about us,” he said, finally laying his cards on the table.

Donna just stared at him, trying not to sway as all of the blood rushed from her head.  “What do you mean, ‘us?’” she whispered.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

His tone annoyed her a bit, and to protect herself, she snorted derisively, and called his bluff.  “You don’t honestly think we’re in danger of having an actual conversation about us, do you?” she said, as she tried to walk past him to get to the door to kick him out.  

But Josh grabbed her hand as she walked past, and stopped her cold, right in front of him.  “I think we have to,” he said, in a deadly serious voice.  “I don’t think we have a choice anymore.  And I think we should have done it a long time ago.”

Just then, they heard Ginger’s bedroom door open down the hall, and the music she was playing within get louder.  She came padding down the hall, calling for Donna as she emerged, saying, “Hey!  How did it go?  And what happened with…”  and just as she came around the corner, she saw Josh and Donna standing toe to toe, with a layer of sexual tension so thick you could see it hanging in the air.

“Umm, ok, umm, nevermind, you can tell me tomorrow,” Ginger said, trying desperately to pull down her nightshirt to a respectable level, but then she realized that Josh wasn’t looking at her anyway.  “I’ll just head to bed,” she said as she ran back down the hall.  She shut her door, pressed her ear up to the inside of it, and then said to herself… “Yeah, I’ll head to bed…riiiiiiiight after I call Margaret to tell her what’s going on, and after I try to hear more of what’s going on in there.”  She ran over to her nightstand, grabbed her cell phone and dialed, and was back with her ear pressed up against the door in a matter of seconds.

Josh and Donna were right where she had left them, standing an inch away from each other, with Josh’s hand wrapped around Donna’s wrist.  They looked at each other for another long minute, and then Donna yanked her wrist a bit, so that Josh would let go of it.  “Josh, my hand…” she said in a low voice, and without taking his eyes from her, he let go.  Donna took a step back, and, still in her long overcoat, she stepped into her tiny kitchen.  She’d be able to do this if she could keep her hands busy.  

“Do you want something to drink?” she said as she started noisily opening cabinets and banging them closes as she looked for…something, anything beverage-oriented to prepare.  Preferably with many long, drawn-out steps that would bore him senseless, making him want to go home and forget about this supposed conversation about “them” that he wanted to have.

As he watched her, Josh realized that she was nervous, and a smile finally peeked at the corners of his mouth.  That made him feel like he had control of the situation again, and it calmed him down considerably.  

Unfortunately, Donna looked up at him at that point, caught the smile, and a shroud dropped over the features of her face as she recognized Josh’s “smug look.”  *Fuck you, Josh,* she thought to herself.  *I’m not going to make this easy on you.*

Oblivious to what was going on in Donna’s brain, Josh thought he might press his luck on the beverage front.  “Got any coffee?” he said, coming closer now and standing in the narrow entryway to the kitchen, blocking off her escape route.  He took off his coat, and threw it on a nearby chair, and then reached up with his hands to hang off of the low archway that separated the kitchen from the living room.  He watched her rattling around the kitchen with amused eyes.

Donna tried to ignore the little lurch she got in her heart at the sight of Josh in a dark sweater and jeans, his arms up over his head, and a grin on his face.  *Not easy.  I am not making this easy on him,* she reminded herself as she started looking in a cabinet under the sink for something…anything to heat up and serve him.  Preferably over his head.  “I know we’re not in the office, but I’m still not making you coffee, Josh,” she said pointedly.  She pulled an old tin out from the back of a low cabinet, and dropped it with a *clang* on the counter, and she looked inside to see what her options were.  “Hot cocoa or tea.  Take your pick,” she said, turning her back to him and reaching up over the sink for two mugs.  When she turned back around, he was right behind her, much closer than he should have been.

“Let me help,” he said, boxing her in, and reaching his arms around her.  For a brief, brief second, Donna thought he was going to put his arms around her body, and pull her in.  She could see him doing it, in her mind, and she began to close her eyes in anticipation of it.  But just as they began to lower, she snapped them back open again.   Donna could feel the blush coming over her face, and was helpless to stop it.  She was also quite sure that at this point, Josh could actually hear her heart beating out of control and was just being polite about it.  But instead of touching her, he reached past her, grabbed the two mugs from the counter behind her, and pulled them out to hold in between them.  “I’d like cocoa, please,” he added, watching her breathe unevenly and her eyes flicker from the mugs to his eyes and back again.  He noted the flush on her skin, and reigned in an urge to press his hand to her face to feel how warm, and soft, it was.

Josh smiled at her a bit, instead, and then moved to the stove to grab her tea kettle, and turned back towards the sink so that he could fill it with water.  But Donna remained standing in the way.  “Donna?  Can you…?” Josh motioned for her to move so he could fill the kettle.

“No,” she said, coming to a bit now.  *NOT easy on him, Donna!* she thought angrily to herself as she shook her head a bit and tried to get a grip on herself.  She grabbed the kettle from him and put it back on the stove.  “I make cocoa with milk,” she said, grabbing his arm and pushing him out of the kitchen.  “I’ll take care of it, you go sit down.”  She turned to the fridge and pulled out a gallon jug of milk.

As she bent to find a saucepan to heat the milk in, Josh went back to his earlier position, hanging off of the archway again.  He watched her with interested eyes.  “I don’t think I’ve ever had cocoa made with milk before,” he said quietly.  “I’ve always just made do with the ‘add water’ kind.”  *Just one more thing that makes Donna…Donna,* he thought quietly to himself.  *Just another thing that makes her special.  And unique.*  He took another look at her as she poured the milk into the pan, and thought it was time that he circled the conversation back to where it began.  “Why don’t you take your coat off and stay awhile?” he asked, not-so-innocently.

“I’m not warm yet,” Donna lied, keeping her eyes away from him as she started searching for the other ingredients that she needed.  Josh watched in silence as Donna added unsweetened cocoa and sugar and a pinch of salt to the pan, and set the gas burner on low.

*Now,* Josh thought, *we can talk.*  “So, about what I said when I first got here…”

“I’m not done with the cocoa yet, Josh,” Donna said firmly.  “And I can’t do two things at once.  If you’re tired, you’re welcome to go home, and we can do this tomorrow,” she said, a bit snippishly.

“No, I’m not tired,” Josh countered, one eyebrow up now that he caught her mood.  “And I’m in no rush.  I’ll wait.”  He dropped his arms from the archway now, and leaning on the entryway wall, crossed his arms over his chest and watched her move gracefully around the kitchen.  He became enormously amused as she started looking for yet more ingredients to put in the cocoa.  He was beginning to think this was the most elaborately-constructed batch of hot chocolate in all of recorded history, and he had no doubt that it had everything to do with Donna wanting to put off their talk.  

To push her buttons, he said, “You know, it’s faster if you do it the simple way, with water.”

“Yes, but it’s better if it takes longer and if it’s…complicated,” Donna said, faltering a bit as she realized that she could be talking about the cocoa, or them.  She wasn’t really sure anymore.

She looked over at Josh after she said that, and saw him watching her intently.  “Maybe you’re right,” he murmured, not taking his eyes from hers.  She was afraid he had heard her double meaning as well.  Finally, a smile hinting at his mouth again, he nodded at the stove and said, “Milk’s bubbling.”

“Oh,” Donna said, a bit voluntarily as she turned down the flame on the stove and added light cream from her refrigerator, and vanilla extract and cinnamon from her spice cabinet.  “It wasn’t supposed to boil over that quickly,” she said, her eyes darting back to Josh again.  *Oh good GOD, Donna,* she thought to herself, *could you stop it with the double entendres already?*  Rolling her eyes at herself, she put a pout in her voice to say, “I don’t have any whipped cream.”

Josh, amused now, said, with exaggerated anger, “What?  No whipped cream?  Well then, just forget it, Donnatella Moss, I am out of here,” he said, throwing his nose in the air and finally, finally, eliciting a smile from Donna, and then a laugh.

“Well, if I had known that that was going to be the way to get you to leave,” she said, smiling a bit now as she reached over to turn off the oven, stir the cocoa one last time, and finally pour it into the two mugs.  She placed one mug on the far counter, in front of Josh, and picked up her own, warming her ice-cold hands with it.  With a resigned sigh, she said, “Do you…why don’t you sit down.  We might as well be comfortable,” she said, regretting not throwing him out immediately when he first came in.

Josh watched her for a second, then shook his head, and took a step closer to her, leaving his mug on the counter to cool.  “Nah.  I’d rather you not be too comfortable for this,” he said, coming over and boxing her in by placing one hand on either side of Donna on the counter behind her.

“So,” he said, an inch away from her, watching her eyes.

“So,” she said, holding the mug of cocoa between them, as a buffer, for dear life.

“How did your date go?” he said, finally getting down to it.


	6. Doing Penance 6

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

Donna raised her eyes to Josh – not hard to do, since he was currently way closer than the general rules of Personal Space allowed – and tried very hard to make the next words out of her mouth sound convincing.  She put on a smile to match.  “It was great,” she chirped, lowering her mouth to blow on the steaming mug of cocoa.  

Josh watched her mouth pucker and blow air from her mouth across the surface of the mug, and felt his gut tighten in response.  He brought his eyes up to hers again, and smiling a bit, said, “Let me help you out, there.”  He blew on the cocoa for her from the other side, and then tried again.  “So, it was great, huh?  What was so great about it?”

Donna completely didn’t hear a word of his question, because she was a bit dumbstruck by the feeling of Josh’s breath moving over her face.  “Huh…what?  I’m sorry, what?” she asked, shaking her head a bit and now leaning back, to put some, any, distance between them.  *Stay focused, Donna!* she said to herself. 

Josh asked again.  “The date.  With Reese.  Why so great?”

Donna was a bit confused now with where he was going, but decided to play along.  “It…was great.  The restaurant was fantastic – great food,” she said, dipping to take a sip now.  She snaked her tongue out of her mouth to make sure she got all of the chocolate off of her lips.

Josh watched her do so, intently.

Donna continued.  “It was so wonderful to be out, have a relaxing meal, talk about something other than politics, have a reason to dress up a bit,” she said, flicking her eyes to Josh’s, and then back to the mug in her hands.  “Can’t wait to do it again.”

Josh cocked his head, and smiled the smuggest of smiles at her, which of course she picked up on, and which of course annoyed her to no end.

“And what’s that look for, Joshua?” she asked, annoyance returning.

“Oh, no reason.  Well, I mean, ok, I just find it interesting…”  and he paused for a moment, considering what to say next.

“What?” Donna said, narrowing her eyes at him.  She knew him well enough to know he was about to say something that he, no doubt, thought was clever, but which would, in fact, aggravate her to no end.

She was right.  “I just find it interesting that you came up those stairs alone, if it was such a great date,” Josh said, shrugging his shoulders for emphasis.

He looked back to her eyes, expecting to see…well, anything other than the blaze of blue anger that he saw reflected there.  He opened his mouth to start to backtrack, but it was too late.  Shaking, Donna turned, dropped her mug and the rest of her cocoa into the sink, sloshing it everywhere, and then she turned back to Josh, pushed against his arms, and knocked him back three steps.  “Get out,” she said in an unsteady voice. 

“Donna, what…”

“You don’t have the right to do this, Josh.  Get out.”

“Donna, wait a minute…”  Josh got another shove from Donna and then got a face full of coat as Donna threw his at him and stalked over to the doorway, throwing it open.

“Josh, the banter portion of the evening is over.  Get the hell out of my apartment, right now.”

Josh stood, gaping like a fish, and then took one step towards the door.  But then he remembered why he came over in the first place, and simply pulled the door from her hand and shut it, keeping both of them in the apartment. 

“No, I’m not leaving Donna,” he said, hands on his hips, ready to do battle.  “We can have this out here, we can have it out in the hall, we can have it out in my car, or you can come to my place and we’ll do it there, but I’m not leaving you tonight until we talk about…until we get everything out in the open,” he said, struggling for words.

“Oh, really?”  Donna said, her eyes wide open with anger and her arms crossed forcefully across her chest.  “We’re really going to *honestly* talk about…*everything?*” she said with a sarcastic tone in her voice on the last word.  “You can’t even say out loud what it is that *brought* you here tonight!  So why don’t I start *for* you, Josh,” she said, revving up now, and working herself up into an indignant, fevered pitch.  “Why don’t we talk about why you’re really here.  God!  I can’t believe I didn’t see it this clearly before,” she said, stalking into the living room and standing in front of the line of windows that overlooked the street below.

“Ok, Donna, you tell me, why am I really here,” Josh said, following her but keeping the length of the room between them.

“Because I’m looking at someone else,” she spat out.  “How’s that for honest?  You’re here because things have been…difficult, with Amy lately,” Donna said, waving her hand at the word “difficult” as if trying for another word and failing to find it.  “And every time you’re coming out of a relationship, or faced with the prospect of *no* relationship, you turn to me, old reliable, to pick up the slack.”

Josh was *so* not following her at the moment.  “What are you talking about?” he asked, honestly perplexed by her line of thought.

“You do this!  You do this every time!  You did this after Mandy finally left, and when you had that…that…that *thing* with the woman who worked at State, and now again with Amy.”

“What?  What in the hell is it that you think I do?” Josh said, waving his arms in the space between them for emphasis.

“You need me, and then you drop me when someone else comes in, and then when they’re gone, you come looking for me again!” she yelled back.  “When you’re single, it’s just you and me.  And we’re in sync.  We don’t fight.  We laugh.  You’re my best friend, when it’s just you and me,” she said, trying desperately not to cry, because if she gave in to tears, she didn’t think she’d be able to yell any more, and she was really enjoying the yelling.  “And then…someone else comes along, and you don’t need me anymore.  I’m just there to place your calls, or find your stupid files, or to be your girl-fucking-Friday, or to help you plan your evenings of sex together!” she said, glaring at him and daring him not to remember how he got her involved in Amy’s “Tahiti” night.  “You don’t call me at night to make sure I got home ok, and if you do call me in the morning it’s…it’s…” she said, not able to get the words out.

Josh came closer.  “It’s what?  What do I do when I call you in the morning?” he asked, his voice softer.  *God, I’m an ass,* he thought to himself.  Because she was right about almost everything, so far.

“Stay over there,” Donna said, putting one hand out to keep him away.  He stopped in the middle of the room, and dropped to the couch.  Donna now started pacing around the living room.

“Finish what you were going to say, Donnatella,” Josh said from his new position in the middle of the room.

But she wasn’t ready to go *there* yet, no matter how honest they were getting.  So she started over.  “You do this.  You ignore me, and our friendship, when you’re with someone else.  And then it ends, and you’re faced with being alone, so you start looking for me again to be your friend, to pick up the slack.  Like I’m, what…” she said, pausing.  “What’s the line from *When Harry Met Sally?”* Like I’m the consolation prize.  I’m *not* the consolation prize, Josh,” she said, eyes blazing now.

“Donna, listen, I…”

“No, you listen,” she said, fired up now.  “But it’s only half the story when *you’re* dating someone.  Look what happens when *I* start dating someone,” she said, her arms out to indicate that night’s situation.  She then re-folded her coated arms around herself, protectively.  “I go out with a great guy tonight, and I have a wonderful night, and who’s here to ruin it at the end?  You are, Josh, like you tried to ruin almost all the others, by having me work late, or not letting me go to make it to the date at all.  Because if *you’re* going to be alone, *I* have to be alone, so I can be there to be your consolation prize.  Your life won’t work if I’m off with someone else, happy – because if that happens, I won’t be there for YOU.  When YOU’RE alone.”

She was stalking back across the room now, and stopped across from Josh, with a loveseat and a coffee table between them. 

“Nothing to say, Josh?” she said angrily.

He looked at her with frustrated eyes.  “I just…I want to do this, Donna, but I really *don’t want to do this with Ginger hanging on every word,” he said, waving a hand in her direction.

They both looked up, startled, when they heard a very loud “I’m not listening!” come echoing from inside Ginger’s room.

Josh just looked at Donna with a very pointed “see what I mean?” look on his face.

Donna just laughed a mirthless laugh at him.  “I knew we weren’t in danger of this going very far, Josh.  Go home.” She brought one hand up to her temple and began rubbing at the headache forming there.

*That’s not going to happen,* Josh thought angrily.  He made the decision to stay easily.  *Screw it.  Ginger’ll have something good for the office gossip mill tomorrow.*  

Josh finally spoke, in a low voice, Ginger be damned.  “You didn’t have that great a time tonight, Donna, admit it.”

Donna just glared at him before answering.  “Why is it so inconceivable that I could have a great time out with a gorgeous, successful, VERY non-gomerish guy, Josh?  Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

 “Because I asked you what was so great about your date, Donna,” Josh said, watching her eyes, “and not one of the things you listed about it as ‘great’ had anything to do with him.  It was all ‘the restaurant,’ ‘the night out,’ and getting dressed up,” Josh said, pointedly looking at her coat and then back up at her eyes.

And because he was right, and was bringing the conversation back dangerously close to her dress, Donna tried misdirection.  “And why don’t you go back to what you really want to ask about, Josh?  About why Jack didn’t walk me upstairs.  That’s why you were really getting at earlier, wasn’t it?  Wanting to know why I’m not here screwing Jack Reese on the first date instead of talking to you?  How long am I going to have to do penance for sleeping with Cliff Calley, Josh?  Seriously.  I’d like to know,” she said with mock sincerity.  “Because I’m done beating myself up over him, and I’ve moved on, but it’s pretty clear to me that you haven’t, by asking me what you did about Jack earlier tonight.  And how *dare* you ask me that question at all, Josh?” she said, barreling on now.  “Have I ever asked you whether you and *Amy* did it on the first date?”

“Oh, but it was ok for you to ask me, in the office, mind you, if I was tired from ‘all the lovemaking,’” Josh said, making air quotes with his fingers to emphasize the point.

“When I did, I wasn’t insinuating that you were a whore, Josh.  There’s a big difference,” she said, her eyes starting to burn with the beginnings of tears.  She looked away, towards the wall of windows, until she forced them down again.  She wasn’t going to cry.  She just wasn’t.  Not until he left, anyway.

“Did you ever ask yourself *why* it bothered me so much that you were with Cliff, Donna?” Josh said, standing now, his eyes glinting as he got angry at Donna’s words.  *She’s wrong,* he thought in frustration.  *Why doesn’t she see how wrong she is about this?*

“I just *told* you why!” she shouted now, digging her hands into the back of the loveseat in front of her.  “You were alone when I met Cliff, and you needed me to be alone, because if I’m with someone else it doesn’t work for *you.*”  Donna gave a mirthless laugh now, remembering.  “You didn’t even have to resort to sabotaging my dates with Cliff, though; I managed to do it all on my own.  I’m sure you were thrilled that I saved you the time and trouble,” she said bitterly.

“Oh, yes, Donna, I just loved having to sit in a cold park in the middle of the night with you, scared out of my mind that Cliff Calley was going to hand you over to Congress over a fucking diary,” Josh said, frustrated that she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see the truth right in front of her.

“Well, I’m sorry that I caused you so much trouble, Josh,” she said bitterly.  “I’m sure if I work hard enough I’ll be able to cause an international incident if I ever sleep with Jack.”

Josh walked closer to her now, and had only the loveseat between them.  “You’re not going to sleep with Jack Reese,” Josh said slowly, and quietly.

“Oh, is that an order, Josh?” she said derisively, crossing her arms in front of her again.

“No, it’s a fact.  The reason I know this is that you came up those stairs alone tonight,” he began.

Donna, misunderstanding, began to work up to another explosion, but Josh put out a hand to stop her.

“You talked, now it’s my turn,” Josh said, crossing his arms and following Donna towards the windows as she stalked off.  He cornered her there as she sat on the window seat, facing away from him.  “I know you’re not interested in him, because you weren’t gushing about *him* after your date.  You were trying to convince me, and maybe yourself, that you had a great time.  I know you, Donna, and I know when you’re excited about something.  Reese isn’t it.”

Donna started to interrupt him, but he put up a hand again.  “I’m not through yet.  I also know that you’re not interested in him, because there’s no way, if he had a pulse, that he wasn’t going to try to walk you to your door, or kiss you goodnight, or try to make his way in here, if you hadn’t put the brakes on downstairs, or at the restaurant, or whatever.  Because there’s no way, with you looking the way I bet you look under that coat,” he said, his eyes traveling over her again, “that he wouldn’t want to try to be up here alone with you.  *That’s* what I meant by what I said earlier tonight, Donna.  I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were some sort of…”  Josh couldn’t use the word she had used before, it was *that* upsetting to him that she had thought that that was what *he* had thought of her.  He just waved his hand in the air instead.

Then he ran the same hand through his hair, and sighed a bit.  “You were right about a lot of what you said to me, Donna.  You’re right, I probably have treated you in a way that made you feel like the consolation prize in the past.  I’m sorry about that.”

Donna was ready to argue with him again, so when she heard his words, she was so completely thrown for a loop that she almost fell off the window seat from her already-seated position.  She put her hands to either side of herself to become steady again, and then just knit her eyes in concentration, sure that there was a catch somewhere that she was missing.

Josh went on.  “You were right about some things, but…I think you’re wrong, in a way, about something else.  Something important.  It’s not that you were the consolation prize, Donna.  You were…God, Donna, you *are* the brass ring, don’t you know that?”

Now you really could have knocked her over with a feather.  She just stared at him, speechless.

Now that he had crossed the line, he just had to keep going and get it all out.  “You’re the brass ring, Donna.  The thing you reach out for, once you’ve figured out how to balance yourself on the merry-go-round, and you’re no longer afraid you’re going to fall off.  And if reach out far enough, if you’re brave enough to put yourself out there, and you finally grab it, you win.  You’re the brass ring, Donna.  Not the fucking consolation prize.  And of course you wouldn’t know that, because I never had the guts to tell you that before now.”

Now Josh started pacing the living room, and running his hand through his hair, and ignoring her absolutely stunned look and body language.  “You said that I always want you to be alone if I’m alone.  Well, what does this information do to your theory…Amy called tonight, to ask me to dinner, and see if we could get back together.”

Donna rolled her eyes.  “You are the most clueless man on Earth, Josh.  The half of a red dress she had on last night didn’t tip you off to that fact?”

Josh looked back at Donna now quickly, and said, “No.  I’ll tell you why in a minute.  But back to me and Amy.  She wants me back; I don’t have to be alone.  It was pretty clear from what happened last night when I took her home,” he said, and watched as Donna closed her eyes in pain, “and it was pretty clear tonight, when she called me and asked me to go to dinner, that we could be together again.  All I had to do was say the word.”

“So how was dinner?” Donna asked wearily, assuming she knew the answer, and wondering when and if and how this was all going to end.

“It never happened,” Josh said, moving now to stand in front of her.  “I’m here instead with you.”

Donna raised very unhappy eyes to Josh’s as he stood above her.  “Josh, what do you want from me?” she whispered, on the verge of tears. 

“I want to know what you have on under that coat,” Josh whispered back, meeting her eyes with his own.

“Why does it matter?” she whispered back, knowing the answer well enough.

Josh watched her for a minute, and then held out a hand to her.  She hesitated, then wearily put one hand in his, and let him pull her up to stand in front of him.

“It matters,” Josh said simply.  “It matters because I bet you have that red dress on under there.  I bet you heard me last night – that you *really* heard me, when I finally started reaching out for you.  I bet you heard me say that you looked better in that dress than Amy did.  And I bet you figured out that I wanted to see you in it again, when I asked you if you’d be leaving for your date from the Wing.”

Donna just watched Josh’s eyes while he spoke to her, inches away once again.

“And I bet you knew it’d make me crazy to see you in that dress,” he continued.  “Or at least, I bet you were hoping it would.  I bet you were hoping that I’d be jealous seeing you go off with another guy, wearing that dress that I told you to keep.  That’s why it matters, Donna.  Because I bet you’re wearing that dress, and I bet you wore it to make me crazy.  And the fact that it *would* make me crazy, and the fact that you’d wear that dress to  *make* me crazy, says something about you and me.  I’m tired of just riding the merry-go-round.  I want the brass ring.”

They watched each other for another long moment.  Then Josh’s heart started to pound as he saw Donna bring her hands up to the top button of her coat, and slip the first button from the eye that held it.  Then he watched her slender fingers move to the second, then the third, the fourth, and then the fifth.  And then he watched as she shrugged her shoulders, and let the coat fall down her arms; and he watched as she caught it with her hands, and turned to lay it behind her on the window seat.  And as she turned to face him again, after all that he had said, and with all that remained to be said, Josh Lyman, proud owner of a 760 verbal score on his SATs, only had one thing to say to her:

“Wow.”


	7. Doing Penance 7

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

Donna watched Josh’s eyes run all over her, and then back up to her eyes again.  She raised her eyebrows in a silent question, and then repeated his own word back to him. “Wow?  Anything else?”

“Wow…was *I* wrong,” Josh said, amending his first statement.  He stepped back a bit to get a better view of Donna in what was most definitely *not* the red dress he remembered from so long ago.

“Disappointed?” Donna asked, anger and frustration and sadness and hope and desperate love all filling her voice at once.  Josh felt every one of those emotions from her, in that one word, and just wanted to hold her now to try to make it all better.  But he knew that they needed to get all the words out, first, so he balled his itching hands into fists to keep them from reaching for her.

“Am I disappointed that I’m standing here in the semi-darkness, with a beautiful woman, who’s wearing a curve-hugging, unbelievably sexy blue dress that makes the skin on her arms glow, and that makes her eyes look bluer than ever?  A dress which, by the way, has sexy, skinny little straps, one of which keeps slipping off her right shoulder in a way designed to make me insane? Ah, no,” he said, smiling a bit and forcing his eyes to travel from those curves and those shoulders up to the eyes he just described.  He took heart when he saw them beginning to thaw, just a little, and he hoped it was because she was finally hearing his words, and believing them.  “I’m not disappointed about that at all.”

He continued now, with a bit of a smile on his face.  “Am I disappointed, however, that I was so unbelievably dead wrong about what you had on under that coat?” he asked, watching her face.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Donna whispered back to him.

“Well, yeah, Donna; you know how much I like to be right,” he said, trying to make her laugh.  But when she didn’t laugh back, and kept an unhappy look on her face, he almost moved to her, unable to understand what she was trying to say.  And just as he started to reach for her, he stopped, and took a step backward.  “Oh,” he said, finally thinking that he was getting it.  *She’s sending a message, alright,”* he thought, a sickening ball of bile forming quickly in his stomach and throat.  *She doesn’t want you, after all,* his brain screamed at him, taunting him.  *God, what a fool I’ve been all night…*  Josh took another step back, panic and pain and despair all over his face as he tried to think of a way to escape.

Donna watched him start to move away from her, and acted quickly to make it stop.  “Don’t you want to know why I’m wearing this dress, Josh?” she asked, following him across the room as he went searching for his coat.

“No, I got it, thanks,” Josh mumbled, desperate to get out of the apartment now.  “I’m sorry I…I’m sorry, Donna.  Get some sleep.   I’ll go, now.”   He was struggling to get into his coat and for some reason, forgetting how to do so; it kept getting tangled on his arms and finally he was so flustered he thought about leaving without it.  He couldn’t breathe, he was so in need of escape.

“Josh, don’t go, we’re not finished here,” Donna said, reaching out a hand to him.  Josh shied away, though, like her touch would burn his skin if she made contact. 

“Why, so you can continue the torture, Donna?  I’m not a masochist.  I get it.  Blue dress.  You’re not interested.  I read you loud and clear.  Let’s forget tonight ever happened.”  Josh was at the front door now, and had his hand on the knob.  

Later, when he looked back on the night, he found it odd that he remembered, perfectly, the feel of that cold, hard knob in his hand, and the way it reflected the light of the slim lamp across from it on the other side of the living room.  Perhaps, he thought later, he remembered it so well because it was the last thing he saw, or touched, before Donnatella Moss grabbed his free hand, spun him around, and pressed her mouth to his own.  Because all he could see, or touch, or feel or smell or hear or taste, for that matter, from then on, was Donna.

He was shocked for a millisecond, and then he recovered and pulled her closer with desperate hands.  Donna ran her own hands along his ribs, under his coat, and then pushed the heavy jacket off his shoulders while her lips battled with his own.  She let out a groan as his fingers danced down her back, and tangled with the thin straps of the dress as they criss-crossed across her shoulder blades.  She walked him backwards into the kitchen, and pressed the full length of her body against him as he rested his hips against the counter.  He ran his hands up her shoulders, to her neck, and then he pulled the clip free that held her french twist together.  Josh plunged his hands into her hair as it fell, and thus pulled her mouth even closer to his own as they kissed, and touched, and fought for breath.

Josh finally came up for air, and buried his face in her neck.  He couldn’t stop himself from pressing his mouth to the curve of her throat as he did so, but as soon as he could breathe again, he had to ask her what was going on.  “Donna?  I don’t understand…”

She smiled as a wave of shivers traveled across her body from the feeling of his lips moving across her skin as he spoke to her.  “Wow, that’s a first,” she said, laughing.

But Josh couldn’t joke, yet; there was too much at stake.  He pulled back, misery in his eyes, and asked again.  “Donna, please.  Tell me what it means,” he whispered, running his hands along the sides of her body, following the cut of the dress from the sides of her breasts down to her hips, and back again.

Donna leaned back, so that Josh would pick his head up and so that she could see his eyes.  She watched them for a few seconds, changing color from brown to hazel and back again as all of his feelings swam there before her.  

“I put the red one on,” she said, barely able to speak above a whisper for all the emotion in her throat.  “In the ladies’ room at work.  I was going to flounce out and make you suffer,” she said, smiling a bit.  “But…” Donna looked down and gave a sigh instead of continuing. 

“What, Donnatella?” Josh whispered back, ducking his head so he could see her eyes.

She raised her head, then, and held it a bit higher, and continued.  “It looked great on me, it’s still the right size and everything, but the dress just…didn’t *fit* me anymore,” she said, watching his eyes.  “I just felt like I was taking a giant step backwards by putting on that dress. I’m not that girl, anymore, Josh.  I’m not the person I was when I wore that dress for you the first time.”

Josh smiled a bit, able to laugh now.  “A-ha,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at her.  “I *knew* you wore it for me that night.”

Donna rolled her eyes at him, and then got serious again.  “I just…It didn’t fit *me* anymore,” she said again, shrugging her shoulders and holding up her hands in a helpless measure.  “I didn’t want to go back there, again.  And then on top of that…” She started to speak again, but didn’t have the words, and couldn’t look at Josh now.  In fact, in a move that freaked Josh out a little, she tried to push away from him and walk off, but he grabbed her hands and pulled her back, alarmed to see tears in her eyes.  

“Donna, what?” he said, his heart breaking a little to watch her try desperately to hold tears in, and then his heart broke wide open as she pulled her hands to her face and sobbed.

Helpless, Josh just pulled her in, flat against him, with one hand splayed against the back of her head, holding her to his neck, and the other arm across her body, pinning her to him tightly.  He held her and shushed her until she calmed down enough to talk to him.

“Donnatella, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, desperately hoping that there was some way that they could come out on the other side of this ok.  

“It’s just…” *sniff* *sniff*  “I don’t…”  *sniff* *sniff*  And now she pulled back, to try to escape again, and when he wouldn’t let go, she pulled her hands up to cover her face.  Through her fingers, and her sobs, he heard her say, “I looked in the mirror, and I saw that red dress, and all I could see was you and Amy,” she said, sobbing again and trying to duck her head as Josh pulled her hands down so he could see her eyes.  “I couldn’t wear it any longer.  I couldn’t stand it.  So I put on the blue one,” she said, her lip quavering and one tear rolling down her cheek.

Josh pulled her back in against him, and held her for another minute, and then put his lips to her ear.  “That’s funny, that you saw me and Amy.  Because I looked at Amy in half of a red dress, and all I could see was you.”

He thought that she would have been happy to hear that, but Donna just started crying harder against his neck, her arms helplessly trapped between their bodies, her hands splayed against his chest.  “You called me from her bed,” Donna whispered miserably.

“What?” Josh said, trying to get her to look at him again.  

“You called me from her bed,” Donna said, pulling back to show Josh the pain in her eyes, in case he missed it in her voice.  “That’s what changed this time, when you started dating Amy,” Donna said, covering her eyes with the palm and fingers of one hand.  “Before, with the other women, I could ignore the two of you together, but this time…in the mornings, if you called me, I could hear the two of you, together, in bed, getting dressed…”  She sobbed a bit more now.  “Do you know what that did to me to *hear* the two of you together like that?” she demanded, trying to pull back again and then relenting when he wouldn’t let her.

Josh didn’t know what to say other than “I’m so sorry, Donnatella.  I’m so, so sorry.”  And he held her while she cried for a while longer.

Finally, Donna pulled herself together, but realized that she had another hard question for him.  She leaned back again to watch his eyes when she asked it.  “What happened when you took her home last night, Josh?” she asked, dreading the answer.

Josh looked at Donna with pleading eyes, begging her to believe him.  “She was all over me, and tried to drag me into bed with her.  I walked her inside,” he said, as Donna’s eyes grew wide.  “I had to, she couldn’t walk a straight line by the time we got back to her place.  Even if I had wanted to…do something with her – which, by the way, I didn’t,” he added, quickly, “she passed out almost before her head hit the pillow.  I left her some aspirin and a glass of water, and then I walked home.  Aaaaaaall three miles of it,” he said, trying to make Donna feel bad for him.  “In the cold.  Uphill,” he added for good measure, making her smile.  He thought for a second before continuing.  “You asked me earlier how I could have missed it that she was wearing the red dress to turn me on?  Easy.  Because all night – before the results came in, once they called it for us, during the party, while I was putting her sorry, drunk ass to bed, and during my long walk home, I was thinking about you.  Now, I’m not going to lie to you,” Josh said, trying hard to contain a smirk and failing miserably.  “You were, in fact, wearing a tiny red dress in most of these thoughts that I had about you,” he said, smiling a bit as Donna unconsciously pulled up the one strap of her dress that kept slipping off her shoulder.  Every time she did, Josh would knock it back off with his finger, and caress her bare shoulder with his hand.  

“But the thing is,” he said, pulling her closer now, if possible, and now framing her face with his hands, wiping the last tear tracks from her cheeks.  “From now on, whenever I think of you?  You’re not going to be in the red dress.  I discovered a lot of things about myself lately, and most especially tonight,” he said, relieved beyond words to finally see her smiling.  “It seems that my tastes have changed, of late, to elegant navy blue dresses that show off your curves,” he said, trailing a hand down her side, “and your neck,” he added, running his mouth from her collarbone up to her ear.   “And, I already mentioned this, but I *really* enjoy the way this dress makes your eyes look even bluer than they normally are,” he growled directly in her ear, sending goosebumps cascading down her arms.  “And, see, the thing about a dress like this, Donnatella?  Is that you’ve left quite a bit to my imagination.  That’s damn sexy.  And I have a hell of an imagination.”

He watched her eyes light up, and felt and heard her gasp in surprise and pleasure at his words, and so he kept going.  “So one of the amazing discoveries I’ve made about myself tonight?  Is that I am really, really *really* turned on by the sight of you in a long, blue sexy dress with a lazy strap that keeps slipping down your arm.  Hell, I’m turned on by the sight of you, period, Donnatella Moss.  And I have been for a very long time.  And I’m finally not afraid to tell you that anymore.”

He watched her process all of that, and to break the tension, he added, “I’m like, ‘Discovery Guy’ tonight, Donna.  I’m like Jacques Freakin’ Cousteau.”

It made her laugh, as he had hoped, and when she opened her eyes again after laughing, she saw him watching her fall back into happiness.  And he reached out, held her face in his hands again, and kissed her, slowly this time, saying, without words, that he was sorry, and that he loved her, and that they’d make it work, and that she was never getting away from him again.

And in kissing him back, she said it all to him as well.

When they finally pulled apart, Donna buried her face in his neck again, and sighed with relief, and exhaustion, and happiness. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore.  I just want to be with you.  Can we just be together?” she asked, hopefully.

“I’ll talk to Leo tomorrow,” Josh said, his eyes closed, one hand smoothing down her hair.

At their boss’s name, Donna pulled back in worry.  “Oh, God, Leo…what are we going to do?”

Josh smiled at her, and made her believe him when he said, “We’ll make it work.  I promise.”

“Ok,” Donna said, smiling again, but still worried.  “It’s just that it’s going to be so…complicated,” she said, a worry line reemerging between her eyebrows.  

Josh planted a kiss there to rub it away, and, grinning, said, “Well, it’s better when it’s complicated,” he said, making her laugh.  “The most beautiful, amazing woman I’ve ever met told me that once.  Although she might have just meant that about cocoa, I’m not sure,” he said, earning a fake swat across the back of his head as Donna laughed at him, too touched by his words about her to care that he was now making fun of her. 

“And speaking of which,” Josh said, peering around Donna’s shoulder to the opposite counter.

“What?” Donna said, turning to see what he was looking at.

In so doing, she missed the wicked gleam in his eye, but heard it in his voice.  “Can I finally drink my cocoa now?”

And from down the hall, they heard, from behind Ginger’s door, “And can I have some too?”

Donna just pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, laughed, and shouted “Yes!  I’ll make some more.  I’m going to have to, I seem to have poured mine down the drain.”  Josh leaned in to kiss her one more time, and then opened the fridge to get out the milk.

“You know, Donna?” he said, with his head buried in the fridge.

“Yeah?” she asked, as she reached up for two new mugs.

“I wasn’t entirely truthful about something earlier…” he said, coming out now and putting the milk on the counter.

“Oh, God, Josh, what…” she said, worried now.

But she shouldn’t have been, and she wasn’t anymore when she saw the amused look on his face.  “In my fantasies about you in this blue dress?” he said, inching closer to box her in again against the counter, like he had earlier in the night.

“Yes?” she said, smiling back at him now.

“You’re making me cocoa at the same time,” he said in a deep, faux-sexy voice, while at the same time arching an eyebrow suggestively at her.  The look of outrage on her face had him laughing in response, and leaning in to kiss the annoyed retort from her lips.  

“You’re going to start demanding cocoa at work, aren’t you, Josh?” she said, dreamily, as Josh moved his mouth down her neck.

“Mmmm, with whipped cream, or else,” he said, capturing her mouth with his own again.

And Ginger came down the hall to see Josh and Donna wrapped around each other in the tiny kitchen alcove, and at the sight, she smiled brightly, and thought that finally, *finally,* Josh and Donna had gotten it right.


	8. Doing Penance 8

**Doing Penance**

**by:** Carrie  


**Characters:** Donna, Josh  
**Category:** Angst/Romance  
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Post-Ep for “Process Stories” and S4 in general.  Amy’s red dress on Election Night reminds Josh and Donna of another red dress; Josh finally gets a clue, and Josh and Donna finally have a long-overdue shouting match about their relationship.  
**Notes:** For fun, the final chapter is about “The Fight” told from Ginger and Margaret’s POV.   


* * *

(Ed. Note:  Chapter 8 is “the fight” from Ginger and Margaret’s POVs.  Enjoy!)

“COME SAIL AWAY!

COME SAIL AWAY!

COME SAIL AWAY WITH ME!”

Ginger bounced around her bedroom while the music coming out of her stereo reverberated off the four walls. Every so often she’d stop in the middle of the room, wait for the right beat, and then throw a little air guitar into the mix.  

*God, I love Styx,* she thought, bopping around the room, bending now and then to scoop up errant piles of clothes, and sort them into whites and darks for the load of laundry she needed to do that night.  Thank goodness she was going to have to wait up for Donna to get home, to see how both the date and Donna’s meeting with Josh went; it gave her an excuse to clean her room and get some other chores done.  Otherwise, she thought honestly to herself, she probably would have just put off the laundry for another night, and been forced to wear her last, most uncomfortable clean pair of underwear the next day to work.

*God, those are annoying days in the office,* she thought aimlessly as she moved around the room. *Those are the sorts of days when all you can think about, all day long, is the atomic wedgie that you’ve given yourself because you were too lazy to do laundry on time, and how you could totally believe it if you heard that in certain countries, they used too-small panties as torture devices on political prisoners.  Those are the days,* she continued thinking, as she jammed the smaller pile of dirty whites into a laundry bag, *when all you want to do is just head for the nearest office, shut the door, yank off the panties and take your chances going Commando while within 100 feet of the Oval Office.*

She stopped short, and cracked herself up at an image of Sam accidentally walking in on her while she used his office to divest herself of her skivvies.  *God, that’d make his hair fall out,* she thought with a laugh, as she went to work on the other pile of clothes.  *Which, you know, would be a crime against humanity, because…damn, the man has a sexy head of hair,* she thought, stuffing clothes into another bag.

Then she stood upright as she realized that she just had a lascivious thought about Sam.  “Oh, Christ,” she said out loud to herself, shaking her head violently to make the bad thoughts go away.  “It’s catching.”  Back inside her head, she thought,  *I’m going to have to quarantine myself from Donna and her boss-lust before I come down with it too.*

Just as Styx gave way to Journey on her 5-disc CD changer, she heard the front door shut; and it must have been shut loudly, because she could hear it over Steve Perry and “Any Way You Want It” turned up to levels that could probably be heard in space.

“Whoo-hoo!” Ginger said to herself, and then added *Gossip time!* via her inner monologue.

Ginger paused briefly by her closet door, where Donna’s red dress was hanging.  She had retrieved it for Donna from the ladies’ room earlier that night, and hung it on her own closet door when she first got home.  She thought about bringing it with her to hand to Donna, but then figured she’d just give it to her later, there was no rush.  Ginger threw open her door and wandered down the hall, calling out to Donna as she went.

"Hey! How did it go? And what happened with…"  Ginger stopped short at the utterly surprising scene before her:  Donna and *Josh,* standing toe to toe, and eye to eye, both looking like they were ready to go to war with each other.  Or rip each others’ clothes off.  Ginger wasn’t sure which it was, but she had a feeling that at the moment, there wasn’t a very great distance between the two extremes.

Then, of course, she realized that the blue silk nightshirt that she had on was WAY too short for Josh to be seeing her in it, and she started trying to tug it down her thighs.  But she gave that up quickly, as it became obvious that Josh hadn’t even looked at her since she entered the room.  His eyes were locked on Donna’s, and Ginger could see, in profile, that Donna was returning the stare.  

"Umm, ok, umm, nevermind, you can tell me tomorrow," Ginger said, adding quickly, "I'll just head to bed," she said as she ran back down the hall. 

Once she was out of sight, Ginger kicked it into overdrive, and hurried into her room, almost slamming it behind her in her haste, and then she sank down to press her ear to the keyhole.  She heard Josh and Donna move into the kitchen, and after a minute, heard Donna slamming the cabinet doors open and closed.  Fascinated, and too excited to keep it to herself, she got up, thinking, *Yeah, I’ll head to bed…riiiiiiiight after I call Margaret to tell her what’s going on…* she thought, grabbing her cell phone from her bedside stand.  As she headed back to the floor in front of the door, she added, out loud yet under her breath, “and after I hear more of what’s going on out there!”

She hit Margaret’s home number on the speed dial, pressed the receiver to her left ear, and pressed her right ear to the door again.

“Hello?”

“Margaret, it’s me…”

“Ginger, oh thank God you called.  Quick, turn on the Food Network…”

“Margaret, I can’t…”

But Margaret just talked right over her.  “I’m taping ‘Nigella’ for Leo again, and…Oh.  My.  GOD, Woman!  You can’t DO that to produce on TV in this country!”  
  


“Margaret, listen…” Ginger said, trying again to break in.

“Seriously, Ginger, she’s fondling a pair of kumquats!  God, I feel so dirty right now.  I can’t believe Leo likes watching this.  It’s just too much information about his probable sexual pref…”

“MARGARET!”

That got her attention.  “What?”

“Thank you,” Ginger said, rolling her eyes and talking with the loudest voice that she dared to use, lest Josh and Donna hear her.  “You’re never going to guess what’s going on here right now.”

“Oooh, are Donna and Jack…”

“No, better.”

Margaret frowned, on her end, thinking.  “Did you suddenly get a life that I’m not aware of?”

Ginger sighed for a moment, adding “Sadly, no.  One more guess.”

“Oh, god, Ginger, I don’t know, my brain went on strike when it saw Nigella stroking a ham hock earlier…Seriously, I want to shower again to get the stench of it off of me,” she complained.

“Whatever.  I have news that’ll take your mind off of it.  Josh is here,” she said, straining to listen as she heard the two of them murmuring and moving around in the kitchen.

“Is he drunk?” Margaret asked, knowing all about the continuing saga of Josh and Donna, and the many missteps they had had along the way.

“No, I don’t think so…but I went out there to see how her night was when I heard her come home, and there they were, standing all up in each other’s business, and looking like they were either going to throw punches or start ripping each other’s clothes off.”  
  


“REALLY!”  Margaret said, her eyes opening wide.  She hit “mute” on the TV, but then realized that if she did that, then Leo wouldn’t be able to hear Nigella talking her smutty food porn talk.  So she turned the volume back on, and left the living room to go curl up on her bed and listen to Ginger’s reports coming in.

“So what’s going on now?” Margaret asked as she threw various stuffed animals and throw pillows onto the floor.  She was obsessively neat for Leo, so she could let it all hang out at home, she thought to herself.  

“They’re in the kitchen, and…” Ginger paused as she tried to hear what they were saying.  “I can’t quite hear them…I’m going to try to open my door a crack and see if that helps,” she said.

Just as she reached for the knob, Margaret said, “Wait!” very loudly in Ginger’s ear.

“Ok, Margaret?  If I have to whisper, so do you.  OW!” she said, angrily into the phone.

“Sorry,” Margaret said, much more quietly.  “But before you open the door, well…do you think we should be doing this?”

Ginger paused at that.  “You mean, listening in on their conversation like this?  Hmmm, you may have a point, there.”

“It’d be wrong,” Margaret said, solemnly.

“It’d be an invasion of their privacy,” Ginger added with a grimace.

There was another long moment of silence, and then, Ginger shrugging her shoulders, said, “You know she’s going to tell me, anyway….”

Margaret smiled on her end, and added, “I’ll go to confession.”

Ginger grinned into her phone as well.  “I’m an atheist.”

“Ok, then I’ll pray for both our souls.  Now get the hell out there and tell me what they’re talking about!” Margaret ordered with gusto.

“Ok,” Ginger said, adding, “let me put the phone down for a second…if I use two hands, maybe I can keep it from creaking when I open it,” she said, not waiting for a response from Margaret.  She lay the phone on the floor, stood, and eased her door open a crack.  With wide eyes, she overheard Josh say to Donna, “Why don’t you take off your coat and stay awhile,” and she couldn’t dive back for the phone fast enough.

“Margaret!” she whispered.  “Oh my god!”

“What?” Margaret whispered back, before rolling her eyes at herself for actually whispering too.  

“He just said ‘why don’t you take off your coat and stay awhile!’ to her!”  Ginger reporte.

“Oh my…do you think he knows…”

“No, I don’t think he does,” Ginger said.  “He was gone already when I left with Donna’s dress, and she told me that she didn’t show him what she was wearing under the coat.  In fact,” Ginger said, remembering, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I forgot to tell you; when Donna went in to see Josh in his office, she was about to leave, and he offered to let her wear his coat tonight.”

“Shut.  UP!” Margaret said, gasping into the phone.  “How much more obvious…”

“I KNOW,” Ginger said.  “I tried to tell Donna that that was a sign, but she wasn’t listening to me at that point, she just headed…” and Ginger trailed off when a wave of milk chocolately goodness wafted around the corner of the hallway and down into her room via the cracked-open door.  “Oh, mother of God, she’s making him hot cocoa,” Ginger said, moaning a bit into the phone now.

Margaret frowned.  “Ok, you’re starting to scare me,” she said, adding, “I hope that’s not what Leo sounds like when he watches you-know-who…”

“Oh, I am *so* hungry all of a sudden.  Have you ever had her hot chocolate, Margaret?  It’s sinful.  Oooh, I wonder if this is some sort of foreplay thing they’ve got going on or something.”

“Oy, too much information,” Margaret said, but then added, “Ok, I can’t take it anymore.  Now what’s happening?”

“Hold on,” Ginger said, sticking her ear into the space made open by the door, and trying not to whimper as she smelled the hot cocoa bubbling.  What she heard next nearly sent her tumbling head-first into the hallway.

“Ok, Margaret, I’m going to start giving you the blow-by-blow, here…”

“Hopefully not…” Margaret said drolly.

“Eww, Margaret.  You know what I mean.  Anyway, check this…he just asked her how her date was…”

“Oh my God, he *went* there,” Margaret said. 

But Ginger was already shushing her, and trying to listen.  “Donna’s saying it was great…great food…nice to go out…blah blah blah; oh Lord even *I* can tell Jack bored her senseless, and I’m all the way in here,” Ginger hissed into the phone.  

“Jeez, I hope Josh is buying it,” Margaret said, adding “Don’t stroke The Ego, Donna!” in mock solidarity through the phone.

“Seriously,” Ginger agreed.  “Hold on…” she said, listening again.  Then, Margaret heard her hiss an indignant “Oh.  My.  God.” into the phone.

“Now what?” Margaret asked, desperately wishing there was a way she could teleport over to Ginger’s bedroom and just cut out the middle man.  Margaret was slightly disturbed to realize that in the next instant, she immediately thought, *I wonder if Leo has anything from the Pentagon on teleportation studies…*  Shaking her head, she now thought, *Seriously, Margaret.  Work on getting a life.*

Ginger was just listening for another few seconds, until an impatient “What’s going on?” from Margaret drew her back.  “Ok, oh my…it’s World War Three out there.  Josh asked her…it sounded like he asked her why she came home alone, ie, why isn’t she doing the horizontal hokey pokey with Jack on my grandmother’s couch…and she’s in the process of  *flipping* *out* on him right now…*God* this is an overdue conversation.  The only thing keeping me from totally enjoying this is, you know, the fact that he can FIRE her for this!”

“He won’t fire her, he’s in love with her,” Margaret said, dismissing the ridiculous notion of Josh doing anything proactive where Donna was concerned, either professionally or personally.  “I wish *I* had that kind of job security,” she added a bit wistfully.

That brought Ginger right back to earth.  “Ok, Margaret?  When this whole thing is over tonight, you and I are going to revisit that little statement you just made.  Because, seriously?  EW, Margaret!  Anyway, let me listen…Oh my god, now SHE went there.”

“Went where?”

“She told him that he wanted an honest conversation, so she’s giving him one…and that…oh, you *go* girl; she’s telling him about how he treats her when he’s got a girlfriend,” Ginger reported, eyes still wide.

“Is she ripping him on the ‘Girl Friday’ treatment?”

“Yup, she even used the term.  A bit more colorfully than that, but she used it.”

“Good for her!  He totally treats her like crap when he’s ‘ensorcelled,’ and God, can I just say how much I wish Toby hadn’t told you about that, to tell me about it; it sounds…”

“Dirty, I know.  Everything’s dirty to you.  You really should get that checked, Margaret.”

“Whatever.  What’s happening now?”

Ginger listened a bit more, then covered her mouth with her hand in an unconscious gesture of self-preservation.  Remembering that that would do Margaret no good, she ripped her hand away and delivered more commentary.  “Margaret – are you ready for this?  She just told him she’s not his consolation prize.”

Margaret drew in a sharp breath.  “Get OUT.  ‘When Harry Met Sally?’”  
  


“Yup.  And she just totally called him on him wanting her alone if he’s alone.”  Ginger paused now, and let out a low, “uh-oh.”

The next thing Margaret heard was Ginger yelling, at the top of her lungs, “I’m not listening!”

“GIN-GER!” Margaret stage-whispered, completely baffled.  “What are you doing?  You’re NOT supposed to be listening, you idiot!”

“I know, I panicked!” Ginger whispered back, her hands cradled around her head in embarrassment.  “Josh just said that he didn’t want to talk to her about all this stuff with me in here hanging on every word and I just…It was a reflex,” Ginger said sheepishly.  

“You’re an idiot,” Margaret said, in a way that only a friend who loved you but yet could still call you on your screw-ups could.  “Are they leaving?”

“Hold on…no, they’re still here.  Oooh, he’s trying to get her to admit she had a crappy time with Jack…”

“What’s she saying?”

“‘Yes I did, why’s it so hard for you to believe it…;’ and now he’s all ‘because I can tell you had a crappy time…’”

“NOW he gets perceptive?” Margaret added, rolling her eyes at the wonder that was Josh.

“Seriously.  Ok…wow.”

“Wow…what?”

“She just asked him how long she was going to have to do penance for Cliff.”

“Yikes,” Margaret said, wincing.  “But…just for dating him?  I don’t understand…they didn’t go out that long.  I just figured Josh ran him off like he did the others….”

But Ginger cut her off with a “Shhh!” so she could listen to the next part.  “Margaret,” she whispered, not believing her ears.

“What?” Margaret replied, sensing something was wrong.

“She said that she was the one who screwed it up with Cliff, and that Josh was probably happy about that…but then, Margaret, I don’t understand this.  He said…” and Ginger listened again.  “He said, really sarcastically, that he loved having to sit in a cold park in the middle of the night with her, scared out of his mind that Cliff was going to hand her over to Congress…over a, quote, “fucking diary," end quote…what the hell is that all about?” Ginger demanded, angrily.  “What did Cliff try to do to her?”

“I don’t know…and I haven’t been Josh’s greatest fan,” Margaret said, “but holy shit, it sounds like he went out on a mighty big limb for her over that, whatever it was,” she added, seeing Josh with new eyes, and coming around to the possibility that he might be good enough for Donna.  She still had her doubts.

“Ok, now Josh is talking…he didn’t mean to call her a whore, he just meant that he couldn’t believe…awww,” Ginger said, her heart much softer than Margaret’s.

“What?”

“He said he bets she looks amazing under the coat.  And now…Oh my god.”

“Ginger, don’t make me kill you.”

“He told her she’s not the consolation prize…she’s the brass ring.”

Both women were silent, as Ginger tried to listen some more, and Margaret’s heart thawed a bit more in Josh’s favor.

“Now…he’s asking her what does it say to her that Amy was throwing herself at him…”

“Hello, Red Dress!” Margaret added indignantly.

“Mmm-hmm!” Ginger murmured, agreeing.  “And he’s telling her…that he doesn’t have to be alone, he could be with Amy…but instead he’s here with her.”

There was a pause, and then Margaret grudgingly admitted, “Ok.  That was good.”

Ginger sighed.  “Just once, I want someone to be that desperately in love with me.”

Margaret knit her eyebrows at that.  “Do you really think it’s done either of them any good?”

“Do you really think they’d be who they are without the other, unrequited love and all?”

“Good point.  What’s happening now?”

“Hold on…oh god, that’s the sexiest thing I think I’ve ever heard.”

“What?”

“He’s telling her why it matters that she wore the red dress for him tonight…that it’s a sign, that she knows that he wants her, and that she wants to tell him that she wants him, too.”

Margaret did the math much faster than Ginger, however.  “But Ginger, she’s not WEARING the red dress!”

Ginger looked up at the dress, still in its plastic wrap, hanging on her door.  “Oh, crap,” she said.  Now she peeked out her door and got a glimpse of what was actually happening in the living room.  “Oh, CRAP,” she said, with gusto now.  “She’s taking off the coat!” Ginger hissed into the phone.

“Oh, mother of God…” Margaret said, having no idea what to expect next.

“Jesus.  Let me repeat, for the record, that I want a man to look at me like that someday.”

Margaret couldn’t help herself.  “Like what?”

“Like…God, Margaret, like he’s ready to devour her.  Like he’s ready to rip the coat off of her himself so he can get to her underneath it.  Oh god, here we go.  Houston, we have a blue dress.  Repeat:  Blue Dress.”

“So what’s his reaction?”

“Wow.”

“Wow, what?”

“Wow.  That was his reaction.”

“Ginger, you are making no sense right now.”

“Margaret, next you’re going to ask me ‘Who’s on First!’  He said ‘Wow’ when he saw the dress…and pretty much undressed her with his eyes right afterwards, by the way…Hold on, I’m listening…he’s telling her that he’s not disappointed by it, because she looks so pretty in it…but…uh oh….”

“Uh-oh, what?” Margaret asked, worried by the change in the tone of Ginger’s voice.

“He…oh no.  He’s freaking out.  Oh my god, I’ve never seen Josh move that fast before.  He…oh NO.  I think he got the wrong message from the dress.”

“Go stop him!” Margaret said, panicking a bit now, too.

“I’m not supposed to be listening!” Ginger whispered back.  “Oh, no, he’s at the door…oh…”  and Ginger gasped and then smiled at what she saw next, covering her mouth with her hand to keep from cheering out loud.

“GINGER!” Margaret yelled, left hanging as she leapt to her knees from the excitement of it all.

“Sorry!” Ginger said, laughing a bit.  “Well, Donna finally figured out a way to shut him up and make him stop moving.  He was about to take off, and she grabbed him by the hand, whipped him around, and started kissing him.”

“Where?”

“On the mouth, Margaret, where do you think?”

“No, where are they?”

“Still in front of the door…wow.  Wow.  Wow.”

“Wow, what?”

“Hoo, our boy Josh can *kiss,* Ginger said, laughing a bit now.  “Yay, Donna!  Oh, no, wait, BOO!  Boo, Donna, don’t…oh, dammit.”

“What?” Margaret said, 

“Oh, dammit, she backed him into the kitchen.  I can’t see them from here!”

“Can you still hear them?”  
  


“What, above the slurping?”  
  


“Ewww, there’s slurping?”

Ginger grinned, happy to gross Margaret out at any opportunity.  “And I think I hear some moaning out there, too.”

“Ewww.  Ok, I’m jealous, shut up.”

Ginger sighed, and leaned back against her door jamb.  “I am too, but I’m so happy for her I can’t stand it.”

“Me too, although if Josh screws with her I’m going to rip his head off and feed it to Amy for breakfast.”

“I’ll be right behind you firing up the grill, don’t you worry,” Ginger said, thoughtfully.  “I don’t think he’ll hurt her, Margaret, not on purpose, anyhow.  He really does love her, everyone can see that.”

“Everyone except, well, you know, Josh and Donna.”

“Yeah, well, I think they finally figured it out tonight,” Ginger said, laughing. 

“What’s happening now?”

Ginger listened, and got worried.  “Oh, god, NOW what’s wrong?  She’s crying?”

“She’s crying?” Margaret asked, annoyed that she was going to have to kill Josh after all, and so soon after she decided he was good enough for Donna.

“She’s *sobbing*…I can’t really hear them that well anymore…she’s saying…what?  “I hooked in the meer, and I saw the bed rest, and allocate see was you and Amy?”

Margaret listened, incredulous.  “What are you *talking* about?”

“I don’t know, I can barely hear them!  I think she said, “I looked in the mirror, and saw…the red dress?  And all she could see…”

“Was him and Amy?  Wow.  Now we know why she wore the blue one,” Margaret said, thoughtful now.

“Yeah.  Wow.  It sounds like he’s shushing her.  He better be holding onto her or I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Tough talk.”

“Ok.  I’ll have Toby kick his ass.  I know powerful people.  I can make this happen.”

“Whatever,” Margaret said, smiling now.  “What’s going on now?”

“More sobbing.  More shushing.”

“God, I could never do that,” Margaret said.

“Do what?”

“Cry all over Leo like that.”

“Well, for God’s sake, Margaret, I hope not!”

“I don’t mean because I was in love with him, Ginger!  Jeez.  Although, in all fairness, I think that if you knew him as well as I did, you’d see a certain quality in him that…”

“Oh, Margaret, please, I don’t think I can handle this…”

“I’m just saying, he’s an attractive man, Ginger!”

“La la la la la,” Ginger said over her, determined not to hear Margaret on this.  “I forbid you to lust after Leo, Margaret.  It’s just not right.”

“Ok, whatever.  How was Sam’s hair today, by the way?”

“Gorgeous as usu…HEY!”

“Heh.  Gotcha.”

“You’re evil.”

“Something to add to my list of sins when I hit the confessional.  What’s happening now?”

“He’s…awww.  He’s turnipped by the slight of her in bluegrass.”

Margaret sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “He’s turned on by the sight of her in a blue dress?”

“Yeah, that.  And he’s turnipped by the slight of her period…and he has been for a long time…and he’s not afraid to teller Hat anymore.”

Margaret smiled.  “He’s not afraid to tell her that anymore?”

“Yeah.  God that’s sweet,” Ginger said, smiling as well.  Then she frowned.  “Ok, now he’s telling her that he’s Jacques Freakin’ Cousteau.”

“What?  That has to be wrong,” Margaret said, confused.

“Yeah, but I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Me neither.”

“Awww…more slurping.”

“Ewww.  And, awwww.  Yay.  So they’re together?” Margaret asked, hopefully.

“Sounds like it,” Ginger said, leaning back against the door frame again.

“Finally.”

“And how…oooh, wait a second…” Ginger said, listening again.

“Why?  What’s…”  Margaret began, but she was cut off when, once again, she heard Ginger yell out.  But this time, she yelled “And can I have some too?”

“Oh, good god, some *what?*” Margaret asked.

Ginger got up now, and threw on her robe.  “Some cocoa.  Sounds like she’s making a new batch!” Ginger said, laughing.

“You better hope it’s *not* foreplay, or else the three of you will REALLY have something to tell Leo when this all comes out.”

“Ewww.  Hey, that reminds me…do you still have your pull-out couch?”

“Yes, why?”

“Well, once I have my cocoa, I figure I’ll leave the lovebirds alone.  Can I crash with you?”

“Of course. I’ll leave the door open for you.”

“Thanks, Margaret. I’ll be by in a half-hour.”

Margaret smiled.  “Ok.  Be careful driving!”

“’Kay.   Bye.”

Ginger hung up, and replaced her phone in the jack.  She pushed open her bedroom door, padded down the hall, and turned to look into the kitchen, to see Josh and Donna wound around each other, just holding on to each other and both looking like their worlds finally made sense.

With a grin, Ginger said, “Well, hell, forget the cocoa,” bringing them out of their happy oblivion.  Donna smiled at Ginger over Josh’s shoulder, but then got a puzzled look on her face as Ginger went for the coat rack.  “Ginger?  Where are you going?” she asked as she extricated herself from Josh and the two of them moved towards the living room.

Ginger smiled at them.  “Margaret’s.  I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, laughing as a blush crept over Donna’s face as she realized that Ginger was giving her the apartment so that she and Josh could be alone.  Josh couldn’t have looked happier about it.  With a laugh, Ginger bounced over to Donna and gave her an enormous hug, whispering, “Be happy” in her friend’s ear.  Letting go of Donna, Ginger moved to stand in front of Josh, and she put her sternest face on before saying “She’s the best thing that ever happened to you.  If you hurt her, I’m going to sic Margaret on you.”  

Josh got a suitably worried look on his face at the notion of facing the wrath of Margaret, and that was enough to make Ginger laugh, give him a hug, and then head for the door.

Josh, a bit worried, yelled after her, “Ginger…one thing…Umm, I’m going to talk to Leo tomorrow, but until I do, can you keep quiet about this?”

Grinning, Ginger opened the door, pulling a hat on her head, and said, “Keep quiet about what?  I didn’t hear a thing.”  And with a wink, she ran out the door, closing it behind her.

The End.


End file.
